The Jolly Roger & the Curse of the Black Pearl
by holdyourapplause
Summary: Emma and Killian have finally found True Love - but can they both survive a new adventure on the high seas? When the Jolly Roger makes a mysterious reappearance in Storybrooke, Killian Jones must embrace his past as a ruthless pirate in order to defeat a new threat, without losing the woman he loves. Rated M for steamy love scenes and prolific pirate cursing, some violence.
1. Love At Last

"You gave up your ship for me?"

Emma felt herself stop breathing and stared in wonder. He did what? For _her_? _The Jolly Roger_? The pained smile faded from his lips. His eyes were still dark with anguish - and something else. Giving up his ship. It must have been even worse than losing his hand. But she thought she could see much more than anguish in those blue depths as he formed his answer.

"Aye."

He didn't regret it and he'd do it again. Whatever it took. No price was too high. That's what he was trying to tell her - and finally -_ finally_ - she believed. He was waiting for her to process his answer, probably bracing for her to pull away yet again.

Instead, she leaned into him slowly, their eyes locked. She needed to show him how much things had changed. How much she wanted him. Had always wanted him. His eyes drank her in. She could see the lust and the same unnameable emotions she could feel coursing through her flickering across that gorgeous face of his. She felt his hand reach up to caress her hair as their lips finally touched. She let her eyes flicker closed with pleasure...it felt like magic. Like heaven. Like home. Her lips parted to deepen the kiss. Her world spun when their tongues danced across each other, gently exploring. Emma reached up to touch his check. That sexy scruff of his had always made her fingers twitch. She wanted to run her hands over every inch of him.

She felt him pull back slightly and opened her eyes. The look she saw there made her heart stop. So full of heat and longing and perhaps a touch of disbelief. She wanted to see more of that. Her mouth turned up in a half-smile as she leaned in to kiss those luscious lips again. She saw him return her smile with a bit of relief. Their lips connected with a delicious frisson of electricity. They stayed fused together for what felt like hours, giving in at last to years worth of attraction. Nothing had ever felt so good, so right.

"Emma, Henry is wondering if he could stay...OH! sorry!"

They broke the kiss with obvious reluctance and turned their heads only slightly, lips still hovering close together as though magnetized. Mary Margaret stood on the patio before them looking surprised, contrite, and more than a little curious.

"So, SO sorry. You two go back to what you're doing." She cocked her head to the side and looked at them, smiling,her eyes shining. "I was just going to ask if Henry could stay with us tonight. David wants to take him to the woods for some training early in the morning."

"Uh, yeah. Of course", stammered Emma. Hook must have noticed how breathless she sounded - she could sense him smirking in that sexy way of his. Her mother turned away with a final smile, looking far too pleased, and walked back into the warmth of the diner. Emma rolled her eyes and wondered if there would be anyone in Storybrooke who didn't know about this five minutes from now. She could hear the bubble of happy conversation within fade as the door swung closed. Everyone she loved was safe and sound here, together. How could she have ever thought of leaving this place?

She turned her attention back to the ridiculously handsome pirate in her arms. He was looking at her with such tenderness. How could she have ever wanted to leave this man?

"You're smiling, love."

"I think...I'm happy."

He grinned and leaned in for another kiss.

She kissed him briefly and then pressed her forehead against his, nuzzling his nose with hers. "I really wish you had the Jolly Roger waiting for us at the docks right now," she murmured huskily.

"As do I." His words were soft. She knew how much the Jolly Roger meant to him. She ached for how much his sacrifice had cost him. Her distress must've shown on her face. As he once told her, she was a bit of an open book to him. "Ah, lass, don't. It was my -"

She cut him off with another kiss, more insistent. He responded with a moan and deeper strokes of his tongue. His hook hand wrapped low about her waist and pulled her toward him. She arched her back, bringing her breasts up against his leather-clad chest. God, that chest. She could feel the heat building, coiling low in her belly and making her limbs feel suddenly heavy. A sensuous tingling seemed to flow up and down her spine, radiating to her fingertips and toes. The ache between her legs had her desperately leaning forward in her chair. She couldn't get close enough to him. She wanted to feel every inch of him pressed against her. Inside her.

He tore away with a ragged breath. "Swan...Emma - you needn't feel obligated because I traded my ship. I want you to want me - want this - because you feel about me as I do about you." He gently rubbed his thumb back and forth across her cheek.

"And how is that you feel about me, exactly?" she said softly.

He took a deep breath. "You know the answer to that, Savior. I love you, Emma Swan."

She held his gaze for several heartbeats. With certainty, she knew she would cherish those words, delivered in that delicious brogue of his, for the rest of her days.

"Killian, I..." she paused just a moment before leaping over the edge. She knew he would be there, to catch her. "I love you." She sounded as though she couldn't quite believe it herself. She thought she would be more nervous to tell him how she felt. But she felt a radiating calm, a rightness, that she'd always been sure she'd never find.

He looked dazed, gazing at her in wonder. He shook his head slightly before standing up suddenly and pulling her with him. His arms were around her, crushing her to him as if he couldn't get close enough. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her lips against his. She felt his hand slide down her backside and press her to him. Her hips ground against him as her hand slid into that gloriously mussed hair of his. She smiled against his lips. She'd always wanted to do that. He somehow always managed to look as though he'd just climbed out of bed after a night of debauchery. It was deliciously sexy and she had spent a very long time trying her damnedest not to think about it. Now she just wanted to be naked in his bed as soon as possible, his head between her legs and her hands winding through his dark hair.

From the feel of his hard length pressing against her, his thoughts were running in a similar vein.

"Do you think we can get upstairs without anyone noticing?" she breathed.

"I'm on the verge of taking you right here, love. I suggest we risk it."

"I'm on the verge of letting you. Let's go."

She was sure that despite their best attempts at stealth, they didn't escape upstairs unnoticed. She found herself not really caring. There was only one thing in the world that mattered right now, and he was standing in front of her in her darkened bedroom looking for all the world like a dangerous, sexy, roguish pirate. A pirate - a man - who loved her and proved again and again he would never leave her. She moved toward him and heard his breath catch. She was standing in the moonlight streaming through the window, her hair glowing silver. He raised his hand to lift a lock and pressed it to his lips. "So damn beautiful, Swan."

He dipped his head to kiss her. She reached for his lapels and eased his duster off his shoulders. Staring hungrily at his chest, she unbuttoned his vest and let it drop to the floor too. She tugged his cotton shirt out of his breeches and lifted it, trailing her nails against his skin as she went. He hissed with pleasure at her touch. "Too many clothes, Hook," she complained as she started on the lacing of his breeches.

"Allow me, milady", he grinned as he made quick work of his boots and breeches. Emma made a mental note to buy him some clothing from this realm tomorrow that was easier to strip off him. She took the opportunity to kick off her own boots and jeans and turned to face him in her black lace panties and bra. It looked for a moment that her pirate might throw her down and ravage her right there on the wood floor, but at last he seemed to master himself.

"Like what you see, Captain?", she teased, as she ran her gaze over his naked form. She certainly liked what she saw. Damn. Running her tongue over her lips, she took a moment to appreciate his body. He was perfect. She could feel her wet core starting to drip down her thigh. Never had she wanted a man so badly, needed him inside her so badly.

No answer was forthcoming from Hook- instead he swooped to pick her up in his arms and stalked toward the bed. Suddenly he was licking her nipples through the thin lace of her bra, his stubble rasping against her soft skin. Arching her back as he ran his tongue inside one of the cups, she dug into his shoulders as he laved her nipple into a stiff, quivering peak. She felt like she could come just from this. The man knew what he was doing. She started to reach around to unclasp her bra, but he grabbed her wrist and suddenly her arms were pinned above her. Head swimming with pleasure, she bucked into him, trying to find that elusive friction she craved. Nothing had ever been hotter. Being ravished by this man and fucked into the mattress till morning had featured in her fantasies for so long. The reality was so infinitely more intense that she keened with pleasure. The point of his hook pressed into her belly button as he locked eyes with her. Holding still was difficult as he dragged it slowly upward until it slid beneath the lace between her breasts. With a quick flick of his wrist, her breasts were exposed to the cool air and he was gazing down at her hard nipples with a look of pure worship. Lowering his head he took one into his mouth and sucked and nibbled until she was panting for breath and writhing beneath him.

"God, Killian - I need you so much."

"All in good time, my love." Capturing the other nipple, he pressed his cock none too gently against her center. Her legs parted widely and she wrapped one of her legs around him, pressing him to her. It was his turn to moan. She knew he could feel how hot and drenched she was through the panties.

"Seriously, Hook - please..."

She was begging. She would keep begging until he gave her what she needed. The desire to run her hands over his body was unbearable but he gripped her wrists firmly.

Kissing between her breasts, he finally released her arms and pulled himself down her body, laving a trail with his tongue and lips down her stomach until she could feel his breath just over her most sensitive part. It was agony. He ran the point of his hook lightly over her clit and she nearly screamed from the sensation. His mouth pressed down suddenly in its place and she could feel his tongue sliding against the bundle of nerves. "Oh god, I'm going to come if you keep doing that..." she whispered.

He began to pull her panties down and she lifted her hips to help him. There was nothing between them now. Lowering his head, he pushed her legs further apart and took a moment to admire her wet, pulsing core. "Swan...you are so fucking gorgeous, woman." and then his tongue was on her, licking slowly up from her dripping folds until he found her clit. A few delicate licks and she was bucking into him. "So close, Killian, keep...yes...like that..."

One and then two fingers slid into her slowly, pushing them deep just as he sucked her clit against his tongue firmly. She was done for. The most intense, furious climax she had ever felt ripped through her entire body and she clenched tight around his fingers. Her hands gripped his hair while she bucked against him desperately. He rode her through it with his tongue against her, groaning appreciatively. "You taste like ambrosia and you're bloody beautiful when you come. Gods, I want you Emma."

"I want you inside me, Killian. Now." She pulled him up to her. She was still rippling with aftershocks from that spectacular orgasm. Now she wanted him to fall apart in her arms. Taking his length in her hand, she slid her fingers up and down his cock, which she found quite impressive and very, very hard. His eyes closed and his jaw tightened when she teased a drop of cum from his tip and slid it around the head.

"Love, I'm not going to be able to make this last if you keep doing that." He was keeping his eyes shut tight.

She placed the head of his cock at her entrance with one hand and arched her hips toward him. She cradled his face with the other. "Killian - I want you..please", she murmured softly. He opened his eyes as he slid slowly inside her slick heat. Her sheath was still rippling from her first climax, clenching him rhythmically as he buried himself to the hilt. He stayed still for a moment as they locked eyes. She pulled him down to kiss her and whispered _I love you_, eyes shining. Hook seemed paralyzed for a moment, overwhelmed. And then he was kissing her with such force and passion she never wanted it to end. They didn't even notice a flash of light and a whirl of wind that swept through the room as they began to move together.

She was close again, this time with her legs wrapped around him, pulling him deeper. He sat up, pulling her with him onto his lap, so they were face to face. Emma was grinding her clit against him, reveling in how deep he was inside her. His cock seemed to find a spot she didn't even know existed, and it was sending her higher into glorious oblivion with every thrust."Come for me, love. I want to make you come, Emma" he ground out against clenched teeth.

His words spurred her higher, his voice so incredibly sexy. "Come with me Killian come inside me please yes oh I'm coming, yes, yes, YES, KILLIAN!" she threw her head back as she rode his cock with abandon. Her climax seemed to never end. She gripped him tight against her as he shuddered and exploded within her, spurting hot wave after hot wave of cum deep into her womb.

They didn't speak or move for a long time, just holding each other. Emma ran her fingers gently through his hair. Her sex was still rippling and squeezing his softening cock. Hook pulled back and kissed her gently. "A man could get used to this, love. Bloody incredible." Emma smiled as she lay back on the pillow, pulling him with her so they remained joined. He hesitated to put his weight on her but she wrapped her arms and legs about him and pulled him fully against her. She sighed in satisfaction at the sensation of their skin touching and his weight on her. "Hmmmmmmm."

"Can I take it I've lived up to expectations, Swan?"

She could hear the smile, the boast, in his voice. "Hmmmmmm." She seemed incapable of speech at the moment. She cleared her throat and tried again."You could say that."

"We're just getting started, love. Give me a moment to recover and we-"

There was a knock at the door. One of the many things Emma had come to appreciate about Killian Jones was the impressive variety and creativity of cursing he was capable of when the occasion called for it. She agreed wholeheartedly - this definitely called for it.

"This had better be a DIRE emergency" she huffed, her tone threatening severe repercussions for whoever was on the other side of that door. She saw Hook smirk appreciatively out of the corner of her eye.

"Sorry to bother you, Sheriff." She recognized Grumpy's voice. "I was just heading home from the party and noticed something as I passed the docks which was...odd...and I thought you and, er, the Captain, should both come take a look."

Emma and Hook exchanged glances. "What was it, Grumpy?" she asked as she slid from the bed and searched for her panties. Why couldn't this town let them have even one night to themselves?

"It looks like...well, it looks like it's the Jolly Roger."


	2. The Jolly Roger

Hook had nearly hauled Emma out of Granny's half naked. She was still pulling on her jacket as they reached the Bug and paused to zip up her boots.

He was practically jumping up and down with impatience. "Come ON, Swan, come on, now, we haven't got all bloody day!"

She rolled her eyes at him. "I can't very well drive with my shoes falling off, Hook. Get in, already."

She started the Bug and off they went, to see for themselves if Hook's wayward ship had indeed made its way back to its captain.

It was nearly midnight and the moonlight brightened the surface of the water to a shining glow. A ship could indeed be seen bobbing in the gentle waves, a good distance out. Hook had jumped out of the car before she could even put it in park and was standing on the dock with his mouth hanging open in shock when she came to stand by him. She slipped her hand into his. "Is it the Jolly Roger?" she asked quietly. He nodded, swallowing.

"I'd know her from any distance. But I have no bloody idea how she could've gotten here."

"Hook, who did you trade her to?"

He looked down at her, unhappily. "An utter bastard of a pirate who didn't even deserve to walk her plank." He looked back out at the sea where his ship was apparently drifting in with the tide. "But he had what I needed at the time."

Emma pursed her lips. "I'm sorry, love."

"Don't be sorry. I would've traded my other hand and possibly a few other parts of me for the night we just had. And that's my line, love," he smiled down at her affectionately.

"Well, how do we get out to her? We won't be able to figure out how she got to Storybrooke from the dock."

They searched until they found a small boat that was easily liberated from its lashings. Hook spent some time fashioning a grappling hook from the tire iron in the back of the Bug. "Can't board her without a bit of effort. But she's worth the trouble. I've found that to be true of the best things in life, don't you agree?"

He was flashing her that devilish grin that always turned her knees to jelly. Now that she knew what it was like to be the object of his efforts, she couldn't help but grin back. With a small eye roll, just to remind him she was still no fainting bar wench.

Off they went, Hook rowing while she sat in the bow and tried to make out details about the ship with his spyglass.

"You know love, this would actually be quite romantic under a different set of circumstances. You, me, my ship anchored in the moonlight, bottle of wine."

She was quiet for a moment. "Killian, what flag did you usually fly with the Jolly Roger?"

"Depended on what we were about. Why, what do you see?"

"It's a tattered black flag, with the silhouette of two skulls facing each other. Does that mean something?"

Hook frowned and paused in his rowing a moment. "Nothing good, Swan. Best be on the lookout and keep your voice down."

They rowed in silence for a few minutes, the only sounds the creaking of the oars and the lapping of waves against the wood. _He's right_, Emma thought. _I could see myself spending a lot of time with him out on the water like this, maybe even living on the Jolly Roger with him. Guess that's what happens when you fall in love with a pirate._ She sighed and went back to sweeping the glass over the ship.

"She's not in good shape, Killian."

"What do you see?"

"Her main mast is bent at an angle, and what little is left of the sails are flapping in the breeze. Her paint is all stripped off as well."

"It sounds as though she's been through quite a storm, but she's enchanted against peril from the sea. It shouldn't be possible to sustain that type of damage, unless magic was involved perhaps." He kept rowing at a steady pace, brow furrowed with worry.

As they approached, they listened for signs that anyone was aboard. No hint of life stirred. The ship appeared to be drifting, tattered and empty. It was a sad sight, even for Emma. She looked with concern at Hook. He was clearly cataloguing the poor ship's wounds. There was more than a hint of anger in his motions as he prepared the grappling hook. She reached over and grabbed his hand for a moment and gave it a soft squeeze. The tension went out of his shoulders and he pulled her in for a kiss. It was brief but full of feeling and promise. She found herself wanting to row back out of there as fast as they could go, climb back into her bed and do very dirty things to each other. Suddenly boarding an empty ship in the middle of the night didn't seem like such a good idea, even if it was the beloved Jolly Roger. With their luck, they'd be sucked through another damned vortex and end up who knows where. Or When. She shivered as he tossed the hook up over the side of the ship. It made an unreasonably loud clang when it landed. As he pulled the rope tight it dragged with a massive scrape across the deck until it caught.

"Well, if anyone was asleep aboard, they won't be any more," quipped Emma.

Hook had made a harness of some kind for his hook hand that would allow him to scale the rope easily. His ability with knots was really quite...erotic. Emma had watched him twist the ropes in remarkable ways and found her mind wandering. He had caught her staring and winked lasciviously at her. "Another time, love, and I'll show you some excellent uses for a good length of rope." She wasn't the blushing type, but she felt her face warm at that.

"Up we go then, lass. I'll go first and then help you up."

He had just reached the railing when he felt the rope pull taut beneath him. Hauling himself over the side, he looked down to see Emma scaling the rope gracefully, hand over hand. He was shaking his head at her when she got to the top, but still offered his hand to help her over the railing. She just smiled a triumphant smile and accepted his proffered arm.

"It appears there's no one aboard, or else they're waiting to surprise us when we go below decks. Shall we, love?"

She nodded and pulled her gun from its holster. Hook slid his cutlass from his belt. They crept toward the hatch leading below decks. It was pitch black inside. Emma took her flashlight from her utility belt and clicked it on.

A sweep of the beam revealed nothing near the ladder. Hook swung down into the berth, sword at the ready. She climbed down right behind, and stumbled into his back when he stopped abruptly. He held up his hook hand to tell her to wait. She stopped moving and listened. Was that...snoring?

They peered into the captain's cabin. Amid half a dozen empty rum bottles, dirty dishes, and general filth, slept a man. More specifically, a very disheveled, quite likely dead-drunk pirate.

"BLOODY HELL!" roared Hook. He reached down and grabbed the man by the lapels. "What in the seven bloody seas are YOU doing on MY bloody ship?!"

"You know this guy?" asked Emma. She was still pointing her gun at the stranger but he seemed in no danger of waking up, much less posing a threat.

"Yes, we're acquainted." The disgust in Hook's voice was plain.

The man took this moment to belch hugely, waking himself up and filling the cabin with eye-watering rum fumes. He squinted up at Emma through very red eyes. "Helllllooolovelypleasetomakeyuracquaint-acquaint...meetyou."

"Emma Swan," ground out Killian behind clenched teeth, "this is Captain Jack Sparrow."

Killian and Emma went up on deck where the air was mercifully clearer and leaned against the railing. They had left Sparrow sleeping it off in Killian's bed, much to his extreme annoyance.

"I'm going to have to burn all of that bedding, you know. Possibly hire a fairy to work some sort of cleansing magic on my own captain's quarters." Hook was definitely displeased by this turn of events, but Emma was secretly thankful. Whatever she expected to be aboard, a drunken pirate seemed to be something they could manage.

"So who is this guy anyway? How did he end up with the Jolly Roger? I assume he's not the pirate you traded with for a magic bean." They were hanging hammocks they had scrounged from below decks across the rigging. Hook had found the anchor intact and had spent an hour securing the ship and taking stock of all that had been damaged. It was a long list and he seemed to take each item in need of repair as a personal affront.

Killian snorted. "Hardly. The man is the worst pirate I've ever heard of."

"Then you _have_ heard of me."

They turned to see Sparrow standing behind them, trying jauntily to look as though he weren't so hungover that he was still drunk, and failing miserably.

"Heard of you, mate? I bested you in a game of dice in Tortuga several years ago. You handed me a mug of rum, the next thing I knew, I was lying face down in the gutter, with my coin purse mysteriously gone. And, my hook," he flashed his hook hand toward the offending pirate with a menacing gleam in his eye, "was nowhere to be found." Emma shifted slightly and bit back a smile - she knew better than to tamper with a man's hook. He was more than a little hot when he got all...piratey. She loved the swagger, even if she wouldn't admit it to him.

"Oh, riiiight mate. Captain Hook, was it?" he sauntered toward them on unsteady legs, gesturing wildly. Emma wondered if it was just the liquor or if the man was a bit...off. She kept her hand to her holster, just in case. "Terribly sorry about that. I was in a bit of a tight spot with a local merchant, you see. Apparently he and I had a fundamental disagreement about the worth of his daughter's virtue. He was quite unhappy with me and I needed to make a quick exit. You understand, mate. Your hook was still firmly attached to your person when I...borrowed...your coin purse, I assure you. Perhaps some spurned wench thought to get one over on the infamous Hook," he waggled his eyebrows at Hook and seemed to regard him with rakish respect. "You had quite a reputation with the ladies, if memory serves. Speaking of which, I don't believe we were properly introduced. I am Captain Jack Sparrow," he doffed his hat with a flourish, and made an unsteady, if courtly, bow in Emma's direction,"and I am very pleased to find such a lovely lass aboard my ship."

"YOUR ship-" sputtered Hook, advancing with murderous intent. Emma stopped him with a hand to his chest and gave him a warning look.

"We need to find out what happened here," she murmured under her breath. "Pleased to meet you, Captain. My name is Emma Swan."

The unkempt pirate straightened and placed his hat back on his head, striving for a rakish effect that merely emphasized the general disarray of his wardrobe. "Well that's rather, er, unexpected. Any relationship to Miss Elizabeth Swann?"

He looked rather wary for a moment. Emma's suspicions, never far below the surface, made a strong case for him hiding something. "No, I'm the only Swan that I know of. Why?"

"No reason, just a lass I once knew. Quite an adventurous spirit. Have you an adventurous spirit, milady?" He was eyeing her rather lecherously just now.

Hook growled under his breath, "That's it, he's walking the plank. If I can find it in this mess."

They agreed to wait to hear his story until morning when he was a bit more sober. Hook and Emma retired to the hammocks and let Sparrow remain below. They lay looking up at the stars and swaying gently in the breeze. Emma found herself relaxing as she hadn't been able to in ages. The rocking of the ship was lulling, as was Hook's hand holding hers across the space between them.

They woke at dawn as the sun crept up over the water. Emma opened her eyes to see Hook staring over at her in the rosy light. "Good morning," she smiled at him.

"You are a vision, Emma. If I could wake like this every morning, to your face bathed in golden light, I would be a fortunate man indeed."

She leaned over to kiss him properly awake - and underestimated just how easy it was to flip over in a hammock. An hour later as they rowed back to Storybrooke with their pirate guest, her dignity was still smarting. Something told her Hook would never let her forget how she flopped out of the hammock and onto the deck like a caught fish. He was still laughing, whenever she caught his eye. She tried not to smile, and put up an annoyed front, but it was a nice change to spend a morning laughing with the man she loved, instead of fighting for their lives.

They made their way from the dock to Granny's. It was early but it would be open soon, and their "captive" refused to tell them how he came to acquire the Jolly Roger without a hearty breakfast first.

They were the only ones in the diner except for Granny. They ordered food and coffee while Sparrow prattled on about what a strange realm this appeared to be. The Bug had absolutely flummoxed the man. He declared it to be magical and he was on no account going to ride in such an unholy horseless contraption. Hook had to threaten him with the cutlass to get him to squeeze into the back seat.

Now that they had their eggs and bacon and Sparrow was reviving somewhat, they settled in to hear his account of events leading him to Storybrooke in possession of the Jolly Roger.

"So you want to hear the strange tale of how Captain Jack Sparrow came to helm the Jolly Roger. I suppose I should begin with the barkeep's wife I met in Tortuga..."

As he began to talk between bites of breakfast, Emma reached for Killian's hand under the table. They exchanged glances. She had a bad feeling about this, and from the look in his eye, so did he.


	3. Sparrow's Tale

Emma was leaning against the wall of the shower while Killian was driving his length into her slowly from behind. The hot water from the shower washed over them, soothing their muscles from a night spent rowing and sleeping in hammocks. They had stumbled into her room above Granny's, exhausted, after hearing Sparrow's tale. Emma had decided the best place for the pirate while they figured things out was the town jail. Sparrow seemed resigned when they took him there after breakfast. He appeared quite familiar with being locked behind bars, at least, and had probably started snoring before they got back to the parking lot.

Killian had invited himself into her room and now that they were getting dirty, and clean again, in her shower, she was glad he had. He had peeled off her clothing with no preamble and turned on the hot water. He soaped her from head to toe, taking his time with her breasts, before dropping to his knees in front of her and lifting one of her legs over his muscled shoulder. She melted into his mouth. She felt his soapy hand slide along her backside as she rocked herself against his tongue. Suddenly a finger was probing, gently, at her ass. She gasped. He looked up at her with a devilish gleam. "Relax, my love" was all he said to her. She decided to trust him and leaned back against the wall. He slid his finger first into her dripping core to coat it with her slickness before returning it to her ass. "You're so wet, Swan. So wet for me. I'm going to make you come so hard you forget your name, love."

It actually felt amazing, so foreign and yet so wickedly good. She moaned and he took it as an invitation, slowly sliding his finger deeper inside her. He gave her a moment to get used to the sensation and then began to work his finger in and out, slowly, as he teased her clit with his expert tongue. "Killian, that feels...oh god." She felt an orgasm building faster than she'd ever experienced before. "Oh god, Killian!" she screamed as she came apart. He stood and took her in his arms and let her tremble until it was over. She smiled up at him. "You're a dirty, dirty, man, Captain Jones."

He smiled back and shrugged,"Pirate." She grabbed the soap and worked his body over in a lather. He had a wonderful physique. His skin had a few interesting scars, and she would ask him about them sometime. But for now, she just wanted to take him to the place he had just taken her, screaming her name. She grasped his length in her hand as she kissed his neck and then slid slowly down his torso until she was on her knees before him. "God, Emma, you're...oh, Emma." He stopped talking as she took him in her mouth and gently stroked his balls. He was not a small man, and she struggled to take him all in. "Stand up, love, please. I want to fuck you properly." How could a girl resist? She stood and he turned her gently to face the wall. He kicked her legs apart, not as gently. She shivered in anticipation. She felt him at her entrance. His hook scraped against the wall for balance as he guided himself inside her, inch by slow inch. She spasmed, taking him all in. He felt so damn good.

"Move, please Killian, fuck me. Fuck me hard."

"Oh love, as you wish."

He began slamming in and out of her in a delicious rhythm, their wet skin slapping as they made electric contact again and again. He reached around and begin to rub her clit. She wouldn't last long. He'd found that spot again. "Come for me again, Emma. I want to feel you come around my cock. That's a good girl, that's it..."

He began breathing heavily. When her orgasm took her this time, she swore she saw stars. She spasmed around his cock so hard that he came right along with her, buried in her as deep as he could go. They toweled off and tumbled into bed, him spooning her from behind. "I love you, Emma Swan."

"I love you, Captain Hook." He smiled against her neck.

"Oh love, you haven't bedded Captain Hook, yet. You'll know it when you do."

She felt a thrill run up her spine in anticipation.

As they fell asleep, both of them thought of the terrible story they had heard earlier from Sparrow. If it was true, they wouldn't have much time left to enjoy each other like this.

"...the blighter had me hanging upside down from the main mast, threatening to damn me straight down to the locker if I didn't direct him to the location of the key straightaway. What was a man to do, I ask you? I lied. Told 'im the key was with the lovely Ms. Swann and her Mr. Turner, and that they had left the realm entirely by portal just that very morning." Sparrow was clearly enjoying having a captive audience.

"But they hadn't, I assume?" Hook was regarding the storyteller with a distinctly suspicious look. He was sitting back in the booth, arms crossed, looking entirely convinced that what he was hearing was a load of bollocks. The only part of the conversation he seemed to be enjoying at all was Emma's hand resting hotly on his thigh beneath the table.

"How should I know? I had the key hidden safely in me skivvies, no need to parade that information about or I'd be dead in a trice and the key nicked right out from under me, er, nose, by the worst pirate bastard in the realm. No chance, mate. Well, anyway, he was apoplectic in the extreme. Told me he would skin me alive and find the key himself. But I convinced him that, being one of the finest sea captains any of the realms had ever seen, and given my firsthand knowledge of the thieves, I had the best chance to discover their whereabouts and bring the key back di-rectly."

"So let me get this straight," said Emma, as she straightened and moved her hand higher up Killian's leg. "You were captured by Davey Jones himself, the boogieman of every pirate's nightmare, and agreed to work for him to find a key that you already had?"

"Aye. Smart lass." He winked at her between sips of coffee, to which he had been adding liberally from a flask throughout the course of breakfast. Emma could feel Hook's patience wearing thin.

"And then you stole one of his ships, the Jolly Roger, and pocketed a magic bean while you were at it, to escape to another realm? And why exactly does he want this key so badly?" she asked.

He was nodding to the first question. He paused for dramatic effect before answering the second. "Well, love, it seems that his boss has a hankering to conquer all of the realms, one by one, and the key has something to do with it. He's done a right bang-up job on me own home sweet home. I saw the writing on the wall, as it were, and made me escape. I didn't have a particular destination in mind, but apparently the ship did. I assume that's why the magic bean brought us to this...lovely place with you lovely people." He gestured grandly to the diner at large.

Killian had sat forward and slid out a dagger while Sparrow was talking. He waited for a pause in the conversation to slam the knife, point down, through the table, in the merest sliver of space between Sparrow's fingers. Sparrow stared at his narrowly spared appendages in wide-eyed surprise. "That is the first and the last time that you refer to the woman seated beside me as "love". You will not touch her, speak to her or so much as look at her in a manner to which I object, or I will not be the only one-handed pirate in Storybrooke. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

"Aye, mate, aye. Apologies, miss. Won't happen again."

Emma frowned at Hook. She shared his distrust of the pirate but the possessive streak, though it sent a shiver up her feminine spine, should be reigned in a bit.

She tried to turn the conversation back to the matter at hand.

"And who is this guy's boss, exactly?"

To her surprise, Hook answered her. "Davey Jones is the right hand man of no other than King Neptune himself, one of the most powerful beings in my realm."

"Is that why you went to Davey Jones to trade for a bean?" she asked gently.

"Aye. Being close to King Neptune, I knew he would likely have access to certain rarities. And since he's a pirate and a scoundrel, I knew he couldn't resist the offer of the Jolly Roger."

"She's a fine ship, mate. Practically captains herself, which is a good thing since I had to crew her all by meself," chipped in Sparrow. "Can't believe you cut a deal with Davey Jones, though. He's a thief and a reprobate if ever I met one."

"Coming from you that's saying something. You're telling us that Neptune is making a move to conquer realms? Why? How?"

"No idea as to the why, mate. I'm just a lowly sea captain. But as to the how...it's a damn atrocity that." Sparrow's gaze darkened. Emma had gotten the impression that he didn't care much about anything but his own comforts, but something was apparently capable of touching the man. "He's used the Curse of the Black Pearl to raise an army of the dead. He has thousands of sailors' souls and he forces them to rove the realm, conquering wherever they can sail."

"What dead sailors? How is this possible?"

"Well, mate, I don't know what you've heard about the Curse of the Black Pearl, but it tethered the souls of the ship to it for eternity. They were condemned to a fate worse than death, made to serve as mere shadows of their mortal selves, being denied all the pleasures of life while their hunger and greed increased by the day. The curse was eventually broken by yours truly, with a little help from my friends. But unfortunately the cursed gold still exists and came into the possession of Davey Jones. King Neptune, in cahoots with Ursula the Sea Witch, found a way to alter the curse to call any shellback who'd ever lived and died at sea to his service."

Hook froze at this. "Any shellback who died at sea, no matter the cause?"

"Aye, 'twas enough to be a Son of Neptune no matter the manner they died, and death didn't move them far enough beyond his reach. Now, they serve."

"Killian, what's all this mean?" Emma leaned toward him, concerned. He looked ashen.

"Shellbacks are those sailors who've crossed the meridian of my realm at least once. We always initiate a new sailor when he first crosses it. From then on we sailors are called Sons of Neptune, meaning that our fate is then subject to the whim of the King of the Seven Seas. I am a shellback, as was my brother." He raised his eyes to meet Emma's.

"Liam," she breathed. "Your brother Liam died of Nightshade poisoning. Was he at sea when it happened?"

"We were in port, but still over the water," murmured Hook. "If Sparrow speaks the truth, my brother's soul is enslaved and tormented by King Neptune, and used to lay waste to the kingdom he once loved. All the realms could suffer the same fate, including this one."

Emma leaned forward and kissed him softly on the lips. He slipped his arm around her and pulled her close. There were more people in the diner now, giving them very curious looks. Neither one of them cared to explain anything just yet, either about them or their strange pirate guest. For now, they just wanted to go home and let all the realms disappear, shrinking the world down to just the two of them.


	4. Koulév Nwa

Emma shaded her eyes with her hand. Hook was high up in the rigging far above her.

"How's it going up there?" she called to him.

She could make out his boyish grin even from where she stood on the lower deck. He seemed so youthful and full of joy these last few days. Climbing over the masts and ropes and pulleys and all the nautical bits and pieces of his ship seemed to have restored some missing part of him. It made her so happy to see him like this. Until she could see those moments when he was thinking of Liam and then the clouds gathered over his features again. They would find a way to save him. They had to.

"Want to join me, love? Marvelous view from up here," came Hook's reply. She liked Playful Hook. But then, she liked Serious Hook, Angry Hook, and most especially her new favorite: Lustful Piratey Hook. She had yet to find a side of him that didn't appeal to her. _Oh, you've got it bad, Swan._

"No, thanks. I put together some food from the galley. Want to come down for dinner?"

"Brilliant. I'll be down straightaway."

She stepped over to where she had spread out the picnic blanket and took a seat, feeling the warm wood of the deck beneath her. The Jolly Roger was really growing on her. She had spent the last few days side by side with Hook, helping to clean up and repair her. He was even beginning to teach Emma how to sail her. There was a lot to learn. Hook's skills as a sailor were shining through and she couldn't help but be impressed. His relationship with the ship was so familiar, so affectionate, that she found herself feeling fondly toward her as well.

Emma felt him approach behind her, his hook silhouetted onto the deck as the setting sun stretched out their shadows. She handed him a beer as he kicked off his boots. Dropping to the blanket beside her, Hook leaned in for a leisurely kiss. She parted her lips and brushed his tongue with hers.

"Mmmmm," he murmured.

"Mmmmm," she responded. They both opened their eyes and smiled at each other. It had been a blissful three days since that night on Granny's patio.

"You've proven yourself to be an excellent first mate, Swan. She's nearly seaworthy again."

"I don't know about that, but I do seem to be the only first mate available. So I suppose that makes me the best crew member you've got."

"Don't sell yourself short, Swan. I think the ship life suits you well. You're a bloody natural."

It certainly suited him. They were both slightly tanned from all the time in the sun and pink cheeked from the wind. He was wearing a white cotton long-sleeved shirt she had picked up for him, his chest hair curling tantalizingly from the v-neck collar.

"I have to admit, I like it here. It's so peaceful, away from everyone."

"Cheers to that, love."

They clinked bottles and dove into the food. They had certainly been working up an appetite, between all the physical labor restoring the ship and other more sinful, equally physical activities. She loved her family, but the last few days with just Killian and the ship and the sound of water beneath them had been satisfying on a level she hadn't known was possible. She lay back on the blanket and let her eyes drift closed. Killian brought his hook to rest gently on her thigh. He was so comforting to her with just the smallest touch. She sighed contentedly and let her mind wander.

It had been three days ago, after her conversation with Regina, that it had really begun to sink in: they could really just keep doing this. This. Being happy together. It wasn't a one-time thing. It wasn't temporary. He wasn't going to leave, and neither was she. There was always the possibility that something, some unforeseen threat, could come between them. Sorcery, trickery, cruel villainy - these were all part of the world they lived in. But for the first time in her life, she felt a serene, unshakeable faith that all those threats would come from the outside. What was between them couldn't be broken. In fact, according to Regina, it was True Love.

She wondered if Regina had calmed down yet. Probably not. The conversation with her had really been more of a one-sided shouting match. She had seen Regina emotional more than once, usually over Henry, but since Emma had brought Marion to this realm Regina had been on the verge of a full-fledged meltdown. Regina had finally, after years of struggling with her own nature, won a hard-fought redemption. She had found her own True Love. The re-appearance of Robin's long-dead wife by Emma's doing had blown her happiness utterly to bits. Emma couldn't blame her for sliding back into their previous stance as enemies. She'd feel the same if the situation were reversed. If it was Milah brought back from the dead and Hook was suddenly torn between two women who loved him. It was like a knife in the chest even imagining it.

Emma had wanted to clear the air between them, and find a way to help restore what Regina had lost. Regina had opened her door and froze when she saw Emma. Her rage was boiling over before Emma could even get a word out.

"Get. Out. Of. Here. Now. Before I do something I regret."

"Regina, I'm so sorry, I had no idea who-"

"Did you come here to gloat? Did you think I wouldn't know it right away? Of course I knew it. I sensed it! The power of True Love's Kiss blasted through Storybrooke last night like a tornado. Who else would it be, except the destroyer of people's lives just getting more than her fair share of happiness, yet again? Well, that's just peachy for you, Savior. You get your happily ever after and you managed to completely destroy mine in the process. Are you happy now?!" Regina was screaming by the end and choking back tears. She stepped back into the foyer as if struggling with all her might not to burn Emma into a pile of ash where she stood. She slammed the door, leaving a stunned Emma staring wide-eyed at the door. True Love's Kiss? Her and Hook?

She was happy, she could admit that. She did love him - she had even told him as much the night before. And he clearly loved her. Enough to trade the Jolly Roger to save her life! But True Love? That was...fairy tale stuff. That was something for people from the Enchanted Forest. People like her parents, or even Regina. But her? No way.

Emma had been lost in thought as she drove back to the docks. Seeing the Jolly Roger anchored in the bay, knowing he was aboard waiting for her return, had flooded her with warmth and contentment. She remembered the immense sensations that first night they shared: the powerful emotions when they made love were absolutely overwhelming. It had been intense. More intense than anything she'd experienced before, for sure. But True Love? She resolved to find Blue and ask her about it eventually. But for the moment, she had a pirate ship to get back to.

Since the fight with Regina she had hardly left the Jolly Roger except to check in on their pirate guest in the Storybrooke jail and to see Henry. She had told Henry and her parents about Sparrow and his story. The whole town had been buzzing with curiosity ever since the Jolly Roger had returned. She was counting on her mother's chatty nature to fill everyone in, so she wouldn't have to. She was also counting on them to help her come up with a plan to save Liam and the realm they had once called home. So far, no one had any bright ideas. David suggested that when Rumple resurfaced after his honeymoon, they should ask him about ways to fight King Neptune. Her parents couldn't hide their worry about her rushing to face yet another powerful foe just days after defeating the last one. David, especially, continued to hint that helping Hook's brother shouldn't be a priority for her. Mary Margaret kept elbowing him or kicking him under the table when he did, with a sly glance at Emma.

After an hour of this, Emma had finally had enough and silenced them both with a look.

"Hook saved me. He saved all of us. Again and again, he's proved himself to this family. It took me a long time to accept it, to believe it, but he loves me. He LOVES me."

They had booth looked stunned at her outburst. She had never defended Hook to anyone like this before, much less with such a fierce possessiveness in her voice.

"And..." she took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling. "...and I love him too." It was nearly a whisper. She paused before lowering her eyes to meet theirs. Her voice was stronger when she continued. "I don't think there's anything I wouldn't do for this man. This family always finds each other, right? Well, his brother is suffering out there. Killian needs to find him, to save him from a fate worse than death. And Killian is part of this family now, whether you like it or not, so I'm going to do whatever it takes to help him."

Mary Margaret had stood silent for a moment before giving her a beaming smile and stepping forward to embrace her. David had just stood there rooted to the floor, looking gobsmacked.

"We're so happy for you Emma," said Snow. So happy that you're in love. You're right: Hook...Killian has proved more than once that he'd do anything for you. As parents, we couldn't wish anything more than that for our little girl."

David had shook his head as if to clear it, and stepped into the hug himself.

"Emma...I'm sorry. I know I've been tough on him. He saved my life, too, you know. I don't hate the guy. I'm just not sure there's anyone out there who could deserve you," said David, who sounded suspiciously choked up.

"Thanks, both of you. I wanted you to know. I need to tell Henry about this, too. I'm sure he won't be too happy."

"I wouldn't be too sure, kiddo," said David with a smile. "I think he's liked the idea of you and Hook together a lot longer than you have. Don't underestimate the pull of a heroic pirate on a boy his age."

David was shrewd: Henry had taken it much better than she expected. It seemed Hook was, indeed, pretty popular with the under 15 male set. Henry was more interested in hearing about Sparrow, the Jolly Roger, and King Neptune. Emma had realized that it would be a challenge convincing Henry to stay behind in Storybrooke while they attempted a rescue. If they could figure out how to, that was. Rumplestiltskin was due to return in a weeks' time. Until then, they had a ship to mend.

The sun had nearly set and the air was beginning to chill. Emma felt goosebumps break out along her exposed arms and shivered slightly.

"Cold, love? Shall we go below decks?"

"No objections here, Captain," drawled Emma, voice husky. Her mind had been drifting toward the bed in the Captain's Quarters the last several minutes. He stood and offered her his hand. As she stood, she gave him a wicked smile. "Perhaps you can give me my first lesson in knot tying tonight."

His blue eyes darkened a shade as he returned her wicked smile with a small bow. "As you wish, milady."

He leaned down for a kiss. Their tongues parried for a moment, beginning tentatively and then deepening into a more passionate tangle. She leaned into him and tilted her hip, nestling herself against his hardening length. His hand wound up into her tresses, gripping her tightly. She felt the point of his hook rest delicately against her ass, urging her closer. She broke the kiss to trail her lips down his neck, nibbling at his collarbone. Her hands were working their way under his shirt when he pulled back suddenly. She was left tottering an arms' length away looking bereft, her hair mussed, lips swollen from the kiss, eyes dark with lust, breathing heavily. From the look on his face, she was a feast and he was a starving man. He gave her one final heated glance before swooping down abruptly to throw her over his shoulder. With a laugh of surprise, Emma gave in to this very pirate-like treatment without a word of protest. She found herself, not for the first time, secretly relishing being grabbed roughly and carried off to his quarters, where a sound fucking no doubt awaited her. She could feel the heat pooling in her panties. It was going to be a good night aboard the Jolly Roger.

When they reached the cabin, Hook didn't take her toward the bed. Instead he strode to his map desk and swept off the papers cluttering the surface. He set her down none too gently.

"Don't move, love." His voice was hoarse and had that note of command that she responded to so shamefully well. He went about the room lighting a few candles and lanterns until the room was bathed in a soft golden light. She had come to love the intimacy of this small cabin, the scent of polished wood and leather mingling with the ocean air. It was linked inextricably in her mind with Hook. It was his scent, too, and she found herself inhaling deeply. It was an aphrodisiac. What this man could do to her...it was amazing that she was able to fight it as long as she did.

He had turned to face her. "Take off your shirt."

She raised an eyebrow slightly. Oh, really?

"I won't ask you again, woman."

She grabbed the hem of her shirt and lifted it over her head. It caught briefly on her breasts and she struggled somewhat exaggeratedly for a moment before tossing it off. When she surfaced, his gaze was firmly locked to her breasts. She bit back a tiny smile.

"Very naughty, Miss Swan. I know what you're about, but it won't do you any good here. You're mine to do with as I please. Don't forget who is in command aboard this ship."

"Aye, Captain. What are you going to do to me?" she bit her bottom lip suggestively.

"The pants now. And the bra as well. Leave those gorgeous knickers on for now."

She thrilled to his voice, loving the way he said knickers. It sounded so...sinful. She did as he instructed, slowly peeling each item away.

When she was down to her panties, he stepped forward again and lifted her back onto the desk. It was a high surface, meant for reading maps while standing. Her center flooded thinking of him kneeling in front of her. It would be perfect positioning. He seemed to read her mind.

"Not yet love. Stay put."

He turned to a heavy seaman's chest he stored at the foot of the bed. From it he pulled a coil of thin black rope, which shone glossily in the lamplight.

"This is a very rare prize I acquired on one of my journeys. It is called _koulév nwa_. Rather a mysterious material. The stories say that it's made from a plant that grows only at great depth in the seas of my realm, and there only in small quantities. It has tremendous strength, the softness of silk, and can be made to hold intricate knots that could not be formed in other materials. The catch is that they can exist only in seawater. Above the waves, they dry out immediately and turn to dust. This particular cord, however, has an enchantment that allows it to keep its properties even when removed from the sea. I've been looking for a suitable use for this ever since it came into my possession."

He had uncoiled it slowly as he spoke, winding an end around his fingers. He stepped to her and brushed it back and forth against her left breast. Her nipple stood to agonizing attention immediately and she arched toward him, lips parting. It was amazingly smooth and soft. She could have sworn it felt slightly wet and oily as well, yet it was dry. It made her think of a seal's silky pelt. She shivered with anticipation.

"How many bar maids have been unlucky enough to be strung up with this?" she asked, hating the jealous note that crept into her voice.

"Unlucky? Let's just say I have yet to hear any complaints." The corner of his mouth twitched slightly as he saw her frown. He leaned in close to whisper in her ear, keeping up the sinful gliding of the rope against one, and then the other nipple.

"It was a recent acquisition, love. I had but one object in mind when I traded for this, and you're about to fulfill that fantasy in spades, Emma." He stroked her chin with his thumb.

Her face flushed with pleasure and she raised her legs to wrap around his waist. He pulled back and away from her grasp.

"Tsk tsk, Miss Swan. Patience." He pulled an arms' length of the rope into his hands and bent his attention to it. She loved watching him work. His hand and hook were so nimble that the knots practically seemed to tie themselves. She was nearly writhing with curiosity. When he looked up, he grinned wickedly and approached her.

"Raise this lovely leg for me," he said, caressing her right thigh. She complied, hesitantly. He slipped a loop over one slender foot and tightened it around her ankle. He glanced at her face as he tugged it snugly to her skin, silently asking if it was comfortable. She nodded ever so slightly and licked her lips.

He held another loop toward her left leg. She lifted it unbidden and he repeated the process. She was now bound at the ankles, each of which had an extra loop at the knot. He slid one loose end around a table leg beneath her and through the loop, pulling it taut. Her legs were now parted widely, one ankle secured firmly to the desk. He repeated the process with the other leg.

The remainder of one end of the rope he slid up to her wrists. He put her palms together gently and smoothly wrapped the silken cord around her bound wrists several times before tying them off with a similar loop. He grabbed the loose end of the rope again and raised it slowly above them. She looked up and noticed a small round hook attached to the ceiling which she hadn't noticed before. It was slightly behind her. He slid the rope through the eye of the hook and pulled it slowly down toward them. Her arms were being raised above her head. He never broke eye contact until her arms were stretched taut above them. He tied the rope down to another hook anchored in the floor several feet behind them, checking to make sure it was taut.

When he turned and rose, he stopped in rapt appreciation at her spread and fixed into place for him to ravish at his leisure. Her core was throbbing, leaking fluids through the thin panties onto the wood desk below. She had never experienced anything more erotic in her life.

Without taking his eyes off her, he began removing his clothing, unhurried. She wanted to scream at him to hurry up, but she had a feeling he would not be rushed tonight. She settled for shifting her hips impatiently, hoping he would get the idea.

"You have no idea how beautiful you are, Emma," he whispered. his erection was immense and she could see a pearly drop of cum slide from the tip. She couldn't stand waiting any longer.

"Please, Killian, please..."

That was all he needed. He stepped between her legs and lowered his head to lick her nipples. The position of her arms was forcing her breast out and up. It was a remarkable position he had put her in. The rope seemed to support her weight easily without chafing her skin in the slightest. Her nipples responded to his tongue shamelessly. He groaned in appreciation and dropped a hand to stroke his cock. She moaned in reply. "You're killing me, Captain."

"That's the idea, Miss Swan." He dropped slowly to his knees before her. He slid his hook slowly between the lace of her panties and her most sensitive area, pulling them aside. He looked up at her while he ran his tongue slowly up her slit, from back to front. She felt faint. His tongue found her clit and began running small, faint circles over it. He was teasing her but she was so turned on that she started to come despite herself. He could see her slipping over the edge and pulled back. She whined in frustration. "Not yet, love."

He reached between them to pull her panties off. A few sharp tugs and she was exposed to him. The next morning she would spare a thought for how much her lingerie budget was going to need to increase, but at the moment she hardly noticed. She felt the tip of his hook sliding up from the crook of her knee, along the inside of her thigh. "Oh yes," she whispered.

He sucked in a breath. "I want you to beg for it, princess. Beg me to take you."

He reached the apex of her thighs and slid the blunt, thicker side of the hook against her. The cool metal felt like an electric pulse against her slick folds. He rubbed her clit in slow methodical circles until she was bucking her hips against him. He suddenly moved the hook away and latched his mouth onto her in its place. When his hot tongue took her clit she shattered into a thousand pieces, screaming his name, spreading her legs to him as wide as they would go.

He stood quickly and slid himself into her in one smooth, hard stroke. He held still for a moment, buried to the hilt, eyes closed. Then those blue eyes opened and she thought she would drown staring into them as he began moving inside her. He was pulling in and out of her in a deliciously smooth rhythm. She was pulling hard against the ropes, but they didn't cut into her skin at all. She wanted desperately to wrap her legs around him, urging him deeper, and rake her nails down his gorgeous back, marking him as hers. She was still vibrating with shocks from the first crushing orgasm, but she could feel another beginning to build already. How did he do this to her?

She let her head fall back and spread her legs even wider. arching her spine. If she couldn't wrap herself around him, she'd open herself to him instead. He moaned in response and grabbed her waist. His pace began to pick up. She could sense him losing control and met his eyes. Her orgasm started rippling through her, radiating and building with each thrust. She felt like she was vaulting into the atmosphere. She begged him silently to come with her over the edge. His face reflected her own explosive climax as he detonated insider her, wrapping his arms around her and clutching her tightly to him. "Fuck, Emma, love!" he yelled as he buried himself to the hilt. She could feel him flowing inside her in hot spurts. She fell limp against her bonds, totally spent. After some long minutes regaining their breath, he pushed himself upright and flashed her a rakish smile, his dark hair falling over his eyes. "Feeling properly ravished, love?" he asked.

"God, I love you," was all she said in return. He leaned in to kiss her softly. Later, after they had battened down the Jolly Roger for the night and climbed into bed, he rubbed his thumb over her wrists.

"Not a hint of a mark. I have to say this more than lived up to expectations."

"Remind me to thank whoever sold you that magic sea rope. Whatever you traded for it, I think you got a good bargain."

"I'm glad you agree," he nuzzled her neck.

The gentle rocking of the Jolly Roger lulled them to sleep, exhausted, limbs twined around one another like seaweed. After some hours of silent calm, the ship began to pitch ever so slightly. Had they been on deck, they would have seen a faint greenish glow appear on the horizon. The stars overhead began to gradually fade, leaving a deep black emptiness. Clouds were rolling in, and the seas were restless.


	5. A Gathering Storm

Killian awoke in darkness. The wood hull of his ship was creaking loudly. Frowning, he listened to the wind blowing around them and tried to gain his bearings. His sailor's internal clock told him it should be dawn, yet only a faint greenish light shone weakly through the porthole of his cabin. The Jolly was pitching mildly as though a massive storm were arriving, yet there had been not even a hint of a cloud in the summer sky when they went to bed a few hours ago. A flash of lightning threw the cabin into relief for a moment, followed by an ominous rumble of thunder that seemed to come from all around them. Something felt wrong.

He needed to get out of bed and up on deck to see what was happening out there, but looking down at the faint outline of the woman sleeping curled up against him undid all his resolve. His heart still skipped a beat seeing her naked and in his bed. Bloody unbelievable. He still couldn't quite trust that this was really happening.

He had looked up from mending a sail just that morning and caught sight of her carefully painting the railing of the Jolly Roger. She'd been wearing just those blue denim dungarees they called "jeans", with the legs rolled up, along with a wisp of a white cotton sleeveless tunic spattered in paint. He'd enjoyed seeing her in the dresses of his realm during their adventure in time, which did glorious things to her cleavage. But damn, the clothing here suited him just fine. He'd cautioned her against slivers but she'd just rolled her gorgeous eyes at him and persisted in going about the deck in bare feet. Her hair was pinned up loosely, a tendril of blonde curling against her graceful neck as she bent to her task. He'd never seen anything more beautiful in his life. She got the cutest furrow in her brow when she was concentrating...

"Quit staring at the woman, Killian" -he told himself under his breath, and turned back to his sail.

Not since Milah had a woman slept with him in his bed. He had thought that no one else could ever feel right in her place. When he was in the depths of his grief and loneliness, his only consolation in the empty nights in his cabin was the thought of revenge against the Crocodile who had taken her from him. She had been such a lovely fit for Captain Hook. Adventurous, brash, full of life and fully at ease aboard a pirate ship, which not many a woman would be happy to call home. He had expected the remainder of his life to be spent mourning the loss of the only woman who could match him, the only woman who would want him, the only woman who would want to share his wandering life upon the high seas. She had seemed a miracle at the time.

But now, watching Emma - courageous, fierce, good, passionate Emma - climb about his ship as though it were hers and sleep nestled in his cabin bed looking more peaceful than he'd ever seen her- he thought how wrong he had been.

The man he'd been back then had truly loved Milah, but the man he'd become would never be satisfied with anyone other than this stubborn, loyal, argumentative, heroic, too-bloody-clever-by-half and unfathomably sexy woman lying in his arms. The man he'd become since he met her, it turned out, was willing to give up everything - his ship, his marauding as a pirate, his very life, anything that he had to offer - just to keep this woman safe.

He'd begun to lose hope that she would ever find the courage to embrace her own feelings. But as usual, she had upturned his expectations and surprised him yet again. She was the only woman he'd ever known who could knock him on his arse, both figuratively and literally. He'd known for ages that was one of the reasons he'd fallen in love with her. Standing in the giant's lair that day, handcuffed and stranded and furious...even then he had known. The physical desire was always there, a constant current that dragged beneath them, but after the beanstalk he couldn't stop thinking about her.

Now, here she was, spending night after night locked in pleasure with him, whispering his name - his real name, screaming it when she came. God, she was a revelation. He wondered if he'd ever stop feeling stunned that she loved him back. Him, the infamous Hook. But then, was he really still Hook? The woman had changed him, in ways he hadn't thought possible. And he had to admit that he loved the way Killian rolled off her tongue. Perhaps the world had seen the end of Captain Hook. He found himself not minding much at all.

Listening to the ship creak more strenuously, he sighed regretfully and shifted, trying to pull away without waking her. She stirred slightly and opened her eyes, instantly coming alert. He knew it was her nature to never let her guard down completely. "What's wrong?" she mumbled.

"Not sure, love. Sounds like a bit of weather rolled in while we were sleeping. I was going to go up on deck and have a look," he said softly.

She reached up to stroke his cheek, relaxing again into the bedding.

"Will the Jolly Roger hold together, do you think?" she murmured sleepily, looking up at him through half-closed eyelids.

"She can handle anything the sea throws at her," he replied, trying not to sound offended at the suggestion.

"Good. That means the storm can wait."

Her other hand had come up between them and cupped him as she spoke. His breath caught. Gorgeous minx, he thought.

"It can definitely wait." He leaned in to kiss her. His cock was growing hard in her hand as she stroked him slowly and firmly. She nibbled his bottom lip as she spread her own legs in invitation.

It was her turn to catch her breath as his hand slid down her abdomen to her apex, fingers sliding slickly into her folds. "You're already wet, love," he whispered approvingly against her cheek.

"I was having a very nice dream when you woke me up," she murmured breathlessly.

"Mmmmm...did I feature in this dream perhaps?"

"Yessss...oh yes..." She was arching against his hand. He was alternating between moving his thumb in delicate circles on her clit and sliding a finger slowly in and out of her.

"Pray tell, what was this devilishly handsome pirate doing to you, darling?"

"It was more what I was doing to you...mmmmm...maybe I should show you? Oh, god that's good, baby, don't stop..."

He leaned in for a deep kiss, probing her mouth with his tongue. Her hand was still wrapped around his cock, squeezing him in rhythm with the firm strokes of his fingers inside her.

She stopped suddenly and swung a leg up over him as she pushed herself up. Her hands pressed his shoulders firmly into the mattress. The light in the cabin was almost non-existent but he could make out the silhouette of her body poised above him, that silky hair falling in waves over her shoulders. He reached up to cup a perfect breast in his hand and slid his slick thumb over her nipple. It was one of the few situations in which he truly lamented the loss of his hand, when Emma was writhing on top of him with that beautiful body, just begging to be touched, and he had but one hand to worship her with. He had said as much to her once, but she had merely run her fingers suggestively along the tip of his hook and told him she preferred a man with impressive hardware. He had no idea how he could possibly deserve such a woman, but he knew he'd do anything to make sure she didn't regret choosing him.

Now she was straddling him in the cozy confines of the cabin, while the storm continued to build outside. He could feel her position him at her entrance, and then he could focus on nothing but the sensation of her enveloping him in her tight, slick heat. She moaned above him as she sank down and buried him deep inside her. Neither of them moved for a long moment. Emma brought both her hands to his face, gently, and leaned down to kiss him lingeringly. He could feel the love, the pure emotion, she put into that kiss and he silently tried to give it back to her. They had spent so much time locked in battle, her fighting their attraction, him pursuing. Now they could give in to each other, completely. Their tongues slid against each other with sure, slow strokes as she began to move her hips. She broke the kiss to sit up and adjust her position so he was deeper inside. He thought he might come immediately from the overload of sensation and tried to think of something else (running the litany of maritime knots through his head seemed to help) to calm himself down. When he felt recovered, he caressed her breast, teasing her nipple to a taut peak, and brought his other scarred wrist against her waist. His hook lay beside them on the table, or it was possibly on the floor by now with the storm rocking the ship as it was.

He'd been nervous the first time he removed his hook in front of her, completely naked to her gaze. They'd made love that first night they returned to the Jolly Roger after ridding themselves of that horrid Sparrow and disinfecting the cabin thoroughly, and were getting ready to sleep next to one another for the first time. He knew he had to remove the hook to avoid impaling her with it during the night. She saw him hesitate and stepped forward to undo the leather fasteners herself, then set the hook gently on the nightstand before climbing into bed. She reached up a hand to him and he slid in next to her. Pulling him atop her, she had caressed his arm and brought his bereft wrist up against her cheek while holding his gaze with those beautiful blue eyes. He had felt tears threatening to spill. Not trusting himself to speak, he hoped the kiss he placed on her lips would convey how much he loved her in that moment, for her trust and acceptance of who he was.

She was now moving on top of him in a slow, steady rhythm. He could feel his balls tightening and he closed his eyes, fighting the rising tide of his climax. She was getting close, he could feel it. Her hands clenched against his chest as she suddenly moved with more urgency. He couldn't fight it any longer. He started thrusting against her, driving into her as she rubbed herself against him. Another flash of lightning illuminated the cabin, and he could see her throw her head back in abandon, losing control as she rode his cock hard to her climax.

"Killian!" she screamed as she ground herself against him and gripped him tight with her thighs. He could feel her walls rippling around him and he finally gave himself over to the onrushing orgasm.

"Emma! God, yes!" he yelled with a final hard thrust. She was still gyrating her hips, spasming with aftershocks as he came, pouring his seed deep within her core. She collapsed on top of him, their bodies soaked with sweat, breathing heavily.

They lay tangled in the sheets for the better part of an hour, Emma atop him, listening to their heartbeats slow. A driving rain had arisen while they were making love. Huge lashes of water were washing against the porthole now and judging by the roll of the ship, the waves were approaching ten feet. Continuous rumblings of thunder could be heard and felt with greater frequency.

"Much as I want to stay here, love, I'm afraid this storm is demanding our attention," said Hook. He noted his voice didn't contain the note of urgency it should. Truth be told, he was so relaxed and sated right now, all he wanted was to pull the covers back over them and sleep through the rest of the storm. But he knew from experience it was best not to leave anything to chance. Better to untangle himself from this seductive creature and go check that all was lashed securely. He would need to decide whether to make for the more sheltered Storybrooke docks or remain anchored in the bay.

"Mmmmm...don't go. I don't want to move," said Emma, sounding half asleep herself. He felt a touch of pride at how thoroughly he could satisfy her. They were a good match for each other in more ways than one.

He pushed her head up with his hand and kissed her lightly on the tip of her nose.

"I know, love. But your captain commands it. Up you get."

"So bossy."

He couldn't see her frown but he could feel it. He couldn't help a wicked smile as he flipped over suddenly, pinning her beneath him. "You've no idea, mate. The punishment I mete out for unbecoming conduct amongst my crew is legendary."

She answered with a wicked smile of her own as she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him against her. Her hands found his hair and pulled him in for a passionate kiss.

"Bad form, Swan...bad form indeed," he murmured against her lips.

"You know you can't get enough of my form, Hook."

It was another half hour before he was finally dressed and climbing out onto the deck, by which time the storm was shaping into something fearsome. With a woman he loved on board, the docks suddenly seemed like a safer place to be. There was something about this storm that he found disconcerting. He couldn't quite put his finger on why, but something about it seemed unnatural. It should be full daylight by now, but only a watery gray-green half-light reached them, transforming the freshly painted Jolly Roger into a sickly, washed out version of itself. The swells below seemed nearly pitch black, as if the ship were floating in an ocean of ink. He put up a sail and weighed anchor, pointing the Jolly Roger in the direction of its usual berth at the docks.

"What's with this storm? There's something...off...about it."

Emma's voice behind him made him start. She was shouting a bit to be heard over the raging wind as she approached the wheel.

"Don't know, but I think it's best we get into port and tie up at the docks where it's a bit more sheltered. You're right, though. Something's not quite -"

Suddenly there was a massive lighting bolt arcing overhead that lit the sky for several heartbeats. Killian had turned to face Emma and now stood frozen, staring off into the distance beyond her.

She turned to follow his gaze and he felt her tense up beside him. In the distance, at the mouth of the inlet, the black silhouette of a ship cut against the white flashing of the sky. It appeared to be moving toward them at a clip, ebony sails fully furled. Killian met Emma's wide-eyed gaze before the sky went dark again. The sharp scent of lightning hung in the air.

"Bloody hell," said Emma.

"My sentiments, exactly, love."


	6. Well-Laid Plans

_Emma threw open the trunk with wet, trembling hands and began rummaging. She finally spied the compass at the bottom. "Got it!"_

_She jumped up and braced to throw herself back into the gale raging on deck, but an item on the floor she'd tossed carelessly from the trunk caught her eye. The glossy black coil of rope lay glistening in a luscious pile - it brought back memories that made her blush hot beneath her clammy skin. The magic sea rope - what had Hook called it again? Koulév Nwa. She didn't have time to waste, but she couldn't resist a sudden urge to touch it, to feel that silky oily texture against her skin. Lifting its soft weight, it seemed to almost nestle itself against her hands like a living creature. She was probably imagining things, but it felt like there was a gentle vibration humming from the cord. Not knowing why exactly, she slipped her head and an arm through the coil and let it drape around her torso. It could have been her tired mind running away with her, but she thought it cinched itself around her more snugly before she climbed the ladder back into the maelstrom above. She didn't have time or energy to spare puzzling over what it might mean. They were fighting for their lives, and it was all her fault._

* * *

The plan had started out rationally enough, at least by Storybrooke standards.

"-so it's just sitting out there in the bay? Doing what, exactly?"

"Watching us, mate. If I were a betting man, I'd wager it's on a scouting mission of some sort."

Emma, Hook, Snow, and David had gathered uneasily around the dining table at the loft once they had docked the Jolly Roger. The weather was worsening outside and everyone in town seemed to be picking up on the unsettling weirdness of it. Emma took a deep breath and tried to project a sense of calm that she didn't actually feel. It didn't help that when she and Hook knocked on her parents' door, the air was practically vibrating with tension. A sudden vision of upcoming holidays with her family had flashed into her head for some reason. If things didn't improve, she shuddered to imagine the amount of rum it would take to get them all through a Christmas dinner together. In David's case especially, it was going to take time to wear him down. But if anyone was good at scaling the walls people threw up, it was Killian Jones. She was certainly proof of that.

She couldn't really fault David. This was all still taking some getting used to on her part, for that matter. From the first time they'd met, she'd felt an almost hyper-awareness of Killian, as though she had an internal compass that tugged her consciousness in his direction. God knows she'd fought that feeling tooth and nail. Now that they had spent days connected to each other in the most intimate ways, she felt as though she could find him at the center of a dark maze, navigating only by that internal tether that began just below her breastbone. Her world had narrowed down to a small spotlight, shining on just the two of them. If it was magic, for once she actually felt all right with it.

She snuck a sideways look at the man beside her, back in his usual leather ensemble. He'd somehow gotten her to admit that he looked "dashing" as they'd gotten dressed that morning. Now she'd never get him into normal clothing. Not that she really minded. You could take the pirate out of the sea, but apparently...

"And are we sure it's King Neptune who sent it?" asked Snow. She was holding baby Neal and rocking him gently as they spoke.

Emma shook her head. "We don't know anything for sure, yet. Sparrow isn't the most trustworthy guy I've ever met, and my superpower tells me he's not telling us everything, but it's possible that his story could hold up. We were about to go over to the jail and have another chat with him."

"I'll go with you," David said, in a tone that brooked no discussion, as he grabbed his keys and headed for the door. Emma bit back a reply. There were more important things to deal with at the moment than her father disliking her...boyfriend? That wasn't the right word for it. What were they, fifteen? Hmmmm. Lover? Blech. She wasn't sure what to call it, yet. She rose with a sigh and shared an exasperated look with her mother before following David.

She saw Snow lean toward Hook with a conspiratorial smile as he rose from the table. "Don't worry, Killian. He'll come around, eventually."

Hook swallowed hard before meeting Mary Margaret's gaze. "Thank you, your majesty."

"Please," she said with a kind smile. "Call me Snow."

Well, one parent was on their side, at least. That was something.

* * *

"Aye, mate, likely a scout. See what he's up against in this realm before he makes a run at it. Not to be underestimated, that Davey Jones."

Sparrow had been in holding for the better part of a week now. Emma wasn't sure, but she thought he might somehow still be drunk.

"Do you think they could've followed you here?" Emma was leaning against the bars, arms crossed, giving Sparrow her best eyes-narrowed-I'm-gonna-break-you interrogation stare. "Why else would they have ended up in Storybrooke as opposed to, I don't know, the Caribbean or something?" She felt more than saw Hook giving her an appreciative once-over. He had been on the receiving end of her interrogations more than once. She suspected they had both enjoyed that little dance more than they'd been willing to admit at the time. An image of him cuffed to a hospital bed made her mouth quirk up in a smile, which she quickly stifled as she returned her attention to their hygiene-challenged captive.

"How would I know, love- sorry, mate," he amended, with a nervous glance in Hook's direction, "allow me to rephrase: how would I know, my dear Miss Swan? I am but a simple pirate, and as my reputation precedes me I'm sure you are well aware of my prowess on the high seas. Sorcery, however, is quite outside my realm of expertise." He was laying back on the narrow cot, arms behind his head, looking as if he hadn't a care in the world.

Emma glanced over at Hook. If looks could kill, Sparrow would be fish food right now.

He threw up his hook in frustration. "Bloody useless. Do you at least know if we can fight them somehow? Capture the ship before it can return to Neptune with information about Storybrooke?" asked Hook. "You must have some information that isn't total bollocks."

Sparrow jumped up from the cot, hands spread in front of him. "Calm yourself, mate. I'm certain you have quite possibly underestimated my worth - to your peril, might I add. Since I am believed to be in the current employ of Davey Jones, I could, conceivably, with proper incentives of course, ask a Parlay of this mysterious ship to try to determine their purpose here, nefarious or otherwise."

"Parlay?" asked David. He'd been listening quietly behind them. From the look he was giving Sparrow, he'd found at least one pirate in the world he disliked more than the one sleeping with his daughter.

"An ancient code of the sea," explained Hook. "Anyone may ask a Parlay of another party, which is an opportunity to speak with one another by virtue of a promise of non-violence. To refuse or to break it would be a great dishonor. Even the lowliest of scalawags will honor the rules of Parlay."

Emma turned to Sparrow, not bothering to hide her distrust. "You're asking us to send you out to meet this mysterious ship and ask for this "Parlay"? Even if they agree to a meeting, why would you be willing to help us?"

"Allow me to answer your question with another question: will you be letting me out of this comfortable cell otherwise, Miss Swan? Though I must admit that as jails go this is one of the more pleasant ones I've had the pleasure to frequent, I would much prefer me freedom. If they agree to a Parlay, I needn't fear for the safety of me person. And, if I agree to help you lot, I will expect to gain something, of substance shall we say, in return for me troubles."

"Which is?"

"The Jolly Roger."

"NO."

Emma and Hook barked back at him in unison. Emma felt a surge of possessive fury. That she felt that strongly about the ship surprised her. Or maybe her captain was just rubbing off on her. Either way, there was no chance she'd allow the Jolly Roger out of Hook's possession ever again. She exchanged an angry glance with him. He looked close to violence and she wasn't far behind herself.

"How about you gain your freedom and keep all of your appendages, instead, mate?" asked Hook in a deceptively calm voice. He approached the cell and rested his hook lightly, with quiet menace, on one of the bars.

"Very well, mate, I'm not an unreasonable sort. I merely require transport back to my own realm and a ship to helm once I arrive there. Needn't be the Jolly Roger, though she's the finest ship I've captained in many a year. Do we 'ave an accord?" he spit in his hand and held it out for Emma to shake.

She stared at his outstretched hand with distaste before turning away. "I'll think about it."

"You drive a hard bargain, Miss Swan."

"I'm not sure we need you as much as you think we need you, Mr. Sparrow," she tossed behind her as she turned away and headed for the door.

Her hand was on the doorknob when she heard him call out.

"That's Captain Sparrow, my dear and waitwaitwaitwaitwait!". They were nearly out the door now. "What if I sweeten the deal, as it were? What if I were to throw in the key?"

* * *

"In my experience, love, if a man like that is eager to be rid of something, think twice before taking him up on his offer."

"I agree, but we do need to know what that ship is up to, and you said yourself they're more likely to cooperate with this Parlay thing with someone they know. That means either you, since you traded the Jolly Roger to them, or Sparrow, and if they think Sparrow is still working for them it might be our best chance to find out their plans."

Hook was scowling down at the table, probably formulating another counter-argument. An unwillingness to admit defeat was definitely one of the traits they shared. He kept his head down but turned his eyes up to meet hers in that mischievous, boyish way that promised very naughty, very enjoyable things. He definitely knew what that look did to her, which was to melt her resolve into a sticky puddle on the floor and drop her panties right into it. That was how she had ended up kissing him that first time in Neverland. She wasn't going to fall for it this time.

She continued stubbornly,"...and if Neptune IS making a play for this realm, it would be good to have a bargaining chip in all of this. If Sparrow's telling the truth about it, which I admit is a big If, the key might be leverage we can use."

"But if Sparrow is willing to give it up, that means he values being relieved of it more than he values that kind of leverage. It's not a comforting thought, love. Not to mention that the man admitted to making off with the Jolly Roger and a magic bean before parting company with Davey Jones. They might well end up sinking us all into the harbor on principle."

They were trying to have this conversation quietly in Granny's diner over lunch. The rain was still pouring down in sheets outside, that eerie gray-green light suffusing the town with a corpselike tinge. It was bright and warm inside the diner, though. Emma lifted her hot chocolate to her lips and inhaled the comforting scent of cinnamon. Hook was holding her hand across the table, rubbing the back of it lightly with his thumb. She ignored the raised eyebrow she got from Granny when she came over to refill their water glasses. People would just have to get over it. She and Hook were together now, whether the inhabitants of Storybrooke approved or not.

"I just want all of this to go away," she leaned back against the booth and sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I was hoping for some more time alone with you. A lot more. Maybe take a trip down the coast for a few days, just the two of us."

Killian's eyes lit up and he tightened his grasp on her hand - she felt her heart skip a beat when he gave her a dazzling smile. He was so beautiful when he smiled. She would have to try to tease them out of him more often.

"Really, love? A little adventure at sea, just the two of us? Sounds like a bloody dream come true." The hint of disbelief in his eyes still surfaced from time to time, as though he was afraid he might turn around and find her gone at any moment. It broke her heart a little to still see it. It made her remember all the times she'd rejected him, all the times she'd said something cruel that was (usually) undeserved on his part. She shuddered to think of what would have happened if he hadn't ignored all her attempts to drive him off. Thank god he was such a persistent pain in the ass.

She squeezed his hand back with a shy smile and looked down at her cocoa. "You can finally teach me how to really sail her."

His gaze softened and he relaxed against the booth. "I have to say, Swan, you seem to be getting very fond of my ship. You certainly weren't about to let that lunatic back aboard her." She detected a note of satisfaction in his voice.

"I guess maybe I'm getting a bit attached," she admitted. "Besides, it'd be a shame to let Sparrow anywhere near her after we finally got all the rum stains out of your rug."

* * *

The die had been cast. The three of them - Hook, Emma, and David - had boarded the Jolly Roger with Sparrow handcuffed between them that afternoon. The ship was cutting cleanly through the waves toward the black ship anchored in the harbor. Emma stood beside Hook at the helm, bracing against the pitch of the waves and the stiff rain-soaked wind. Her black raincoat was only keeping her slightly drier than nothing at all. David was on the lower deck, wedged into the bow with Hook's spyglass raised to his eye. Sparrow was clinging to the main mast with cuffed hands, intermittently raising a flask to his lips. Emma rolled her eyes, hoping he was sober enough to get through this Parlay business without making a mess of things.

As it would turn out, Sparrow could have thrown up on Davey Jones' boots, called his mother a whore, and danced a naked lambada on the deck of the Black Pearl, and it wouldn't have made a damn bit of difference either way. 

* * *

_When she forced her way back through the hatch, Hook and David were still grappling with the ship's helm. The waves were now the height of the Jolly Roger's main mast. The ship was dipping into the trough of each wave by more than its own length before rising again with the next massive swell. The bow sprit pierced the top of the next inky wave, sending a cascade of freezing water onto the deck. Emma looked up above them to where she'd last seen Sparrow clinging to the mizzenmast. She could just make out a flash of disordered clothing way up in the rigging. She had had to adjust her opinion of the pirate slightly. He'd proven himself to be a good sailor. Hook had even given the guy a grudging compliment earlier, just before things really went to hell. _

_She supposed if she could do things over again, she probably wouldn't have gotten quite so mouthy with Ursula the Sea Witch. _


	7. Ursula

The Jolly Roger had approached the Black Pearl cautiously. Hook took care to run up a white flag well before they came near. As they got closer, he thought the ship seemed to turn nearly transparent with each flash of lightning. Sails that had seemed whole and full turned ragged and bleached and then back again. Killian shook his head, not certain he had seen anything at all. Perhaps this bizarre storm was playing tricks on the mind.

David had uncuffed Sparrow and they were climbing the steps to join Hook and Emma on the upper deck.

"There's something very off about that ship, mate," said Sparrow. He had produced a spyglass from one of his many pockets. Emma was frowning at him - apparently she hadn't searched him as thoroughly as she had thought.

"How so?" Hook was curious if anyone had seen what he thought he had.

"It appears in perfect form until the light strikes just so, and then it has the look of a ship that has no business being afloat."

"Aye, I thought perhaps my eyes were deceiving me but it appears the ship is enchanted in some dark manner."

He glanced over at Emma.

"You sure you want to do this, love?"

She nodded, with that grave little frown she got when she was steeling herself to do something brave and usually more than a little foolish. He truly had a weakness for headstrong women, it seemed.

He brought the Jolly Roger broadside to the Black Pearl. The other ship's crew, who looked like the usual motley lot of sailors one would expect on a pirate vessel, seemed to be waiting patiently for them to arrive.

"Sparrow, toss the lanyards over to the lads there."

To his surprise, the pirate objected not at all to the order and immediately set about the ropes. In moments, the crew of the Pearl had made the lashings secure and the two ships were now tethered to one another. The waves had seemed to calm, and the rain appeared to lessen.

Hook felt Emma give his hand a squeeze. He was feeling very unsettled. All of his instincts as a pirate were clanging like klaxon bells, telling him to cut the lashes and sail her out of there as quickly as the Jolly Roger could take them.

Before he could make any moves in that direction, Emma called out in a clear voice to the other ship. "We request a Parlay with Captain Davey Jones."

The crew of the Pearl was eerily silent. They just stood staring at the blonde woman facing them down, and waited. Soon the crowd of men at the rear of the ship began to part. A large figure was striding toward them, one that Killian would have recognized anywhere.

"And who is it, then, who would have words with Davey Jones?" came the reply in a thick, salty rasp. He heard Emma gasp loudly. He turned to see her gaping openly at their host. He suddenly realized he should've warned her what to expect. Davey Jones was no mere mortal. His skin was a mottled green hue, and in place of a beard, a collection of muscular tentacles writhed down to his waist. His mouth had the look more of that of a turtle's or some exotic sea creature's, than it did of a man's. He looked as though he had melded somehow with a creature of the deep, becoming part man and part monster.

His Emma was a brave lass. He wasn't surprised that she recovered her balance quickly.

"If only that were the craziest thing I'd seen this week," he heard her mutter. She called out, "Captains Hook and Sparrow, along with Prince David and his daughter Emma, of the Enchanted Forest."

"Emma, you say? Would that be Emma Swan, now, me lovely?" purred Jones. Hook stepped forward, placing a protective hand on the small of her back. He felt her lean into him slightly. She had picked up on the predatory tone in Jones' voice as well. He noted that David had gripped his sword sheath a little tighter.

"And what if it is?" she asked warily. Hook saw her rest her hand against her holster. He wasn't sure bullets would do much good against a creature like Jones but he admired her spirit.

Jones chuckled softly. "Well, then, lass. You, Miss Swan, be the very reason for the Pearl's journey to this strange realm. It seems you have quite an important role to play." He turned slightly to address Sparrow.

"Captain Sparrow, you've been a remarkably useful fellow. You see, he thought he was escaping us with a prize, when in fact he was leading us right to it. And I have to offer you my sincerest gratitude for coming out to the Black Pearl yourself rather than forcing us to make landfall in this abominable place. It certainly simplified things a great deal." He turned to his crew, barking, "Seize her, kill the rest!"

All was sudden chaos. The crew of the Black Pearl rallied with a chorus of cries and surged toward the railing of the Jolly Roger, preparing to board.

Sparrow had, to everyone's surprise, acted with the greatest alacrity on their side. Leaping forward with a cutlass he'd managed to conjure from who knows where, he slashed through the lashings that secured the two ships together. A few of Jones' men, daggers clenched in their teeth, had managed the leap between the ships before they began to drift apart. David dove forward along with Sparrow to meet the charge. "Get us out of here, Hook!" he yelled as he ran one of the scalawags through.

A report blasted through the air. Emma had recovered from the shock of the sudden attack and took aim at the nearest pirate. The bullet had barely any effect whatsoever, as he had feared. Emma grabbed a rope dangling above her to raise herself up and swung toward the attacker, planting an elegant double kick to the man's chest. She knocked him clean backward over the railing. What a woman. She caught him grinning at her. "What? You said there was a pirate side of me, didn't you?"

"Aye, that I did, Swan. You might be more a pirate than I am, woman."

She favored him with a heart-stopping smile before turning back to the fight. Hook was at the helm attempting to steer the ship away from the Pearl, but the seas were churning once again and it felt as though the wind had risen to thwart them.

"Halt and hand the woman over to me, and I will release your ship unharmed. Do not, and I will give the order to fire a cannonade right into the Jolly Roger's broadside, Hook. You know I'll sink you where you sit without a second's thought," boomed Jones' voice above the fray.

"Ah, but then you won't have Emma, will you Captain?" he yelled back at him.

"I can fish her out of the sea once I've blown yer bloody ship to pieces!"

Hook was unsure whether this was a bluff, but he did know he would never hand Emma over to this foul creature no matter the cost. "Go to hell you slimy bastard!"

"Very well, then. You leave me no quarter," he spat at them. He raised his arm and slashed it down through the air, yelling "FIRE!"

The percussive boom of cannon fire shook the ship. Not all found their mark, but a few did. A canon ball the size of a grapefruit smashed the railing on the lower deck and sailed low over the deck of the ship, whistling through the air mere feet from Emma. He thought he heard another one crush through the hull a little lower down. Hook could smell the sulfurous clouds of smoke. His fury was blinding. He shouldn't have sailed without a full crew. They could've been firing back, giving the Pearl as good as she got. Now all they could do was retreat.

"Have you had enough, Captain, or shall I sink the Jolly Roger?"

"Better to sink my ship than hand Emma over to the likes of you, Jones!"

"Well, let's not be hasty now, mate-" started Sparrow. He silenced himself at the look Hook gave him.

Jones must've given the signal to fire again. The second cannonade was as deafening as the first. He braced for impact, preparing to say goodbye to his ship for the second time in as many months. After several moments of silence, he opened his eyes and looked about. There were clouds of smoke hanging in the air around the cannon ports of the Black Pearl. The cannon balls themselves, however, were a bit of a mystery to him, until he noticed one hanging in midair just a few feet in front of him. He'd been moments away from having his head taken off. A dozen of the spheres were hovering just in front of them, as though captured in an invisible wall of air. What the bloody hell was going on?

The answer became clear when he looked down at Emma. She was in a crouching position similar to the one she adopted when she fought Zelena to save Henry. Her hands were stretched out in front of her. She slowly stood, looking at her hands and the hovering cannonballs with evident surprise.

"Impressive, Miss Swan. 'Tis no wonder they think you such a prize that I was ordered to cross realms to claim you."

Killian knew Emma Swan so well that he had no trouble predicting how she would respond to that statement. Her face shifted quickly from surprise to pissed off determination.

"The only thing you'll be claiming today, pal, is a watery grave." His Swan had a way with words, he had to give her that. She flung her hands toward the Black Pearl in a gesture whose force he could feel in his gut. The array of cannonballs ceased their suspension in midair and hurtled back toward the Pearl at many times the speed they had come from it. Not one of them missed.

Hook had never seen the like of it in all his years at sea. Cannon fire was a notoriously imprecise means of destroying an enemy ship, especially when the seas were as wild as they were today. But Emma, with one sweep of her hands, punched a dozen very impressive holes into the enemy ship. One of them even fractured the main mast, sending forth a shower of splinters and shrapnel. He could hear Davey Jones howling furious orders over the chaos of the scattering crew.

Emma was surveying the damage with her hands on her hips, a rare moment of satisfaction plying her lips with a smile. Sparrow and David were both staring at her in open astonishment.

She glanced over to Hook, and gave him a smile and a little half-shrug, as if to say she had no idea how it had happened. He shook his head at her. She needed to accept how powerful she was. How powerful he knew she could be, when it mattered.

"ENOUGH!" a booming voice seemed to echo from the clouds above and around them. Lightning crackled the air.

"Captain Davey Jones, stand down. You have failed your master and will be punished accordingly. Prepare to return to face the wrath of King Neptune. I will deal with this mess myself."

A massive face, grey and cruel-mouthed, had formed in the clouds above the Jolly Roger. A face Hook thought he recognized, but had had the good fortune to never encounter personally in the past. Ursula. It had to be the sea witch.

"Emma Swan, my my my. You've certainly managed to impress me, my dear, and I'm not an easy woman to impress. I'd heard you were powerful, albeit untrained. I can remedy that."

"Who are you? And what do you want with me?" said Emma. Killian thought he had an idea. Someone with magic as powerful as Emma's was bound to be noticed by someone like Ursula. A creature like her only wanted one thing: power. If she couldn't use Emma, she'd take what she could from her and then kill her. His stomach clenched.

"My darling girl, you have no idea what you're capable of. With the right mistress, you could become a very powerful pupil indeed. We could eventually rule all the realms together. Doesn't that sound like a lovely idea, my dear?"

"Actually, no. Not interested."

The clouds roiled angrily and thunder rumbled in the background.

"No, my lovely? But you see, I am interested. And so is my...partner...King Neptune. Very interested. And if you don't want to come willingly, well...we'll just take you unwillingly and drown your companions for good measure," she purred in her throaty voice, chuckling at the thought of her imminent victory.

Emma upturned a palm. A ball of fire suddenly materialized. Damn. She was really starting to get control over her magic. Ursula stopped laughing. A long tentacle whipped angrily across the image rippling in the clouds.

"I wouldn't do that my dear. You don't know who you're dealing with."

"Oh, I think I do. Let me make something perfectly clear. You're going to back off and leave this realm. You're going to take that ratty pirate ship with you, and you're never coming back. Otherwise, I'm going to fire up the grill at Granny's Diner. I have a real hankering for calamari all of a sudden."

Everyone was silent for a moment. Possibly no one could quite believe that Emma had just threatened to cook the old witch for dinner.

Sparrow leaned toward Hook and asked quietly,"Do mine ears deceive, or did Miss Swan just threaten to dice and sauté Ursula the Sea Witch in a preparation of butter and herbs?"

"Aye," said Hook with a disbelieving shake of the head.

"One hell of a woman you've got there, mate."

"You've no idea."

"If she weren't about to get us all killed, I'd -"

What Sparrow would do or not do was cut off by an enormous crack of lightning and concussive, bone-shaking thunder. The ship began to heave up and down madly as the brackish waters of the bay roiled beneath them. The rain was driving in from all directions in punishing sheets of water. He looked up nervously to the black-green clouds billowing angrily above them. The enormous visage of Ursula the Sea Witch was glaring daggers down at them, practically engulfing them in her fury. He didn't think she could be uglier than he remembered, but seeing her face contorted with rage, he revised his opinion. Definitely uglier.

"Remember this day, Emma Swan. You will regret crossing Ursula the Sea Witch," had come the last booming voice from the sky.

Captain Hook wasn't a man to be easily frightened, but now he had something he was terrified to lose. And that something - someone - had just seriously pissed off the most powerful sea enchantress in all the realms.

"You've done it now, Swan," muttered Hook as he leaned with all his strength into the helm, which was trying to spin madly. The ship was swiftly being pulled unnaturally to starboard. "Hold fast, Emma love!" he yelled down to where he glimpsed her blonde figure scrambling to grab on to something. The ship tilted far, much too far. Fear spiked through his blood. Much more of this and the Jolly Roger would capsize and they would be done for.

A stream of vehement pirate curses, some of which even Hook hadn't heard before, was blistering his right ear. Jack Sparrow stood at his side, leaning into the wheel with him in a futile attempt to right the Jolly Roger. Hook could feel his boots slipping on the wet deck as they pitched over. He saw David loose his footing and slide down the foredeck scrambling for purchase. He somehow found a rope and was tying it around himself. Looking over the railing of the ship, which was now nearly parallel with the pitching sea, Hook could see the foaming water beneath them spinning in a slow but immense spiral. The water began to sink away underneath them as though a massive drain below the bay had been uncorked, sucking millions of gallons of seawater into some unknown blackness, pulling the hapless Jolly Roger and all unfortunate souls aboard along with it.

"Killian!"

He heard Emma scream, and the terror in her voice froze his blood. He could see her gripping the slippery rail of the Jolly Roger, on the verge of pitching over the side. Before he could even find his breath, he saw her hands lose their purchase on the wood. Almost in slow motion, he watched helplessly as the woman he loved slipped over the side of his ship into the blackness.

"No! Emma, noooo!" the scream tore from his throat.


	8. Apart

The first thought that formed in Killian's mind when he clawed out of the darkness of unconsciousness was an odd one. He had been dreaming of home, his first home. He'd found himself walking along the docks of his youth, his brother beside him. They were strolling along as they had done times beyond counting, when they had dreamed together of escaping to the sea. His brother appeared as he had as a young lad, perhaps 14, which was not long before he had left to join the King's service. Killian ought to have been 10 or thereabouts, but in this dream he was his present-day self. He was a head taller than his brother, and he glanced down at his sandy tousled hair with tender affection. He felt self-conscious about his pirate dress, and held his hook behind him as they walked. As boys dreaming of adventure at sea, they had longed to be officers of the Royal Navy. Chivalrous, bold, honorable men. Pirates were scoundrels, the very enemies of good form. Killian had changed so much since the last time he saw his brother. Would Liam understand why he had become what he had? Would he despise him? He was overcome with a sensation of anxiety, almost shame. But then he thought of Emma, of how things had changed for him since she came along. He had found his conscience. Perhaps his moral compass was sufficiently repaired for Liam to be proud of him again? But, in any case, his brother was paying no mind to Killian. He had stopped and was pointing out to sea, wordlessly. Hook pulled his spyglass from his pocket. There was a terrible black ship approaching, its inky sails full. A black-green storm was billowing miles high on the horizon, bringing in the ship at a supernatural speed. As the lightning lashed overhead, Hook awoke with a start.

The thought that jumped unbidden to his mind as he opened his eyes was that he had to find young Liam, to protect the lad before the threatening ship arrived. He shook his head to clear it. That wasn't right. Liam was long dead, poisoned by Pan centuries ago. Now he was quite possibly undead and enslaved, but in any case he was no longer a child to be protected. Hook discovered he was lying at an awkward angle, his left arm above his head. It had long since fallen asleep and was complaining painfully. His hook was lodged solidly into the wood base below the ship's wheel. He groaned as he tugged it free and sat up, slowly. The seas were still quite angry but at least they were no longer spinning. The Jolly Roger was listing badly to port. It was a right mess, as well. The riggings were all askew, sails lying about in tatters and snapping raggedly in the wet wind. Emma was going to be furious when she saw all her hard work - Emma...god. No.

Killian felt the world lurch as though another whirlpool had opened up right beneath him. He closed his eyes, bracing as the memories flooded back. That last vision of her beautiful, frightened face as she called out to him, before falling away into the darkness. He'd lost her. He'd lost Emma Swan, just when they'd finally found each other. He leaned over and retched what felt like a gallon of seawater onto the deck. He pressed his aching forehead down against the cold, wet wood. He was starting to shiver, whether from the wet clothes or the shock or the overwhelming grief, he couldn't say.

"Oy, Hook...you alive, mate?"

Sparrow's voice was weak. Hook pulled himself upright and stood with some effort. Sparrow was kneeling on the deck, his feet tangled about with rope. He must've gotten caught up in it while they were sucked through that vile whirlpool. It must've saved his life. Why had this wretched man survived and not his Swan? He bit back a sob that threatened to undo him. It seemed the violence of the storm or perhaps witnessing the loss of Emma had drained Sparrow of some of his swagger. He said nothing as he waited for Hook to master his emotions.

A banging suddenly came from below a pile of wooden wreckage on the lower deck along with a muffled yell.

Bloody hell. David. Had he seen what happened to Emma? God, how was he going to tell him his daughter was lost?

Hook limped to the pile of wreckage. David lay there bloodied but alive, squinting up at Hook and shielding his face from the spraying wind.

"Hook. What the hell happened?"

Hook wordlessly reached down, offering him an arm up. David took it and heaved himself onto the deck. He wobbled for a moment. Dried blood caked his temple.

He glanced around the ship, sparing a distrustful glance for Sparrow, who was attempting to extricate himself from the various knots he found himself trapped in. "Where's Emma?"

Hook swallowed. He wasn't sure he could trust himself to speak. He took a shaky breath and raised his eyes to meet her father's. David was a smart man. He could read in Hook's eyes what he was about to say and was shaking his head stubbornly.

"No, no way. No way. She's got to be here, what the hell happened?!" He was yelling by the end of the question. Killian felt his eyes swimming with tears and looked upward. He turned his head away. The shivering was getting worse. He found that he couldn't say the words - to say it would be to make it true.

"She went over the side, mate," said Sparrow softly behind them. Hook felt a small spark of gratitude to the pirate for saving him from having to tell David that his daughter was probably dead. "Ursula conjured a whirlpool portal that all but sank the Jolly Roger when it dragged us through. Your Emma was hanging on for dear life, as were we. She couldn't...she was lost to the sea. It all happened in the blink of an eye. There weren't nothing the lad could've done," he continued, gesturing sadly to Killian.

David had stood looking stunned for several heartbeats, and then he exploded at Hook with the full force of his fury and grief. It was worse than Killian could've imagined but less than he thought he deserved. He didn't save her. Her last thoughts must have been that Hook had let her down, yet again. He would never forgive himself.

* * *

Emma was having a very nice dream. She sensed vaguely that it was a dream, and that she should wake up, but her willpower failed her. That seemed to happen a lot whenever Killian Jones was involved. They were lying in their bed on board the Jolly Roger. The morning sun was streaming through the porthole, limning the warm wood paneling around them with golden light. Killian was asleep beside her. Her limbs felt heavy and languorous and she was pervaded with a deep peace as the ship rocked them gently. Her eye wandered to the chair beside the map table. Her dress was tossed casually over the back of it, the intricate lace train puddling on the floor. The white silk bridal garter she'd been wearing around her thigh was dangling from the bedpost where Killian had tossed it after sliding it oh-so-slowly down her leg while he licked at her hot core. She couldn't quite remember the ceremony, just the flowers bedecking every corner of the ship, and Killian carrying her into the cabin. She knew she should be annoyed at the idea of the white dress and all that silly frippery, but a pleased smile curled her lips. It was beautiful being Mrs. Killian Jones, and since this was just a dream, after all, she was going to embrace it the way she would be afraid to in real life. She looked over at her husband's handsome face. So strange - Emma Swan marrying Captain Hook! But it felt so right. She knew that she was happier in this moment than she had ever been in her life. She leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his lips, her hair brushing over him. He stirred and opened his eyes, smiling. "Good morning, Mrs. Jones."

"Good morning, Captain Jones."

"Mmmmm. Feels bloody lovely saying that."

She leaned in for another kiss, this time more urgently. She let her hand wander down his chest. He returned the kiss, running his tongue over her lips. He flipped her suddenly onto her back and pressed himself between her legs. She could feel his manhood firmly against her thigh.

"Mmmmm. THAT feels bloody lovely," she whispered.

He gave her a wicked smile and bent to capture a nipple between his teeth. She arched into him. The heat between her thighs was pooling and she knew she was already so wet for him. She spread her legs and wrapped them around his waist. He groaned and shifted his attention to her other breast.

"Oh, Killian, yessss..."

She tilted her hips toward him and he slid into her in one fluid motion. They moved together with tenderness and urgency. His hand slid between them to rub her sensitive nub as he thrust into her. God, he really knew how to do that.

When she came she pulled him deep into her and bucked wildly against him, bringing him right along with her into ecstasy. He was resting on top of her, his weight like a pleasant ballast tethering her to the earth. "I wish we could just stay like this forever," she whispered.

"As do I, love. But we'll need to move eventually. When the baby comes, we'll need a more suitable home than this little cabin." He propped himself up to look at her with so much love in his eyes it took her breath away.

She smiled, holding back tears. Oh yes, the baby. Of course. A little boy that looked like his father and charmed every woman he met? Or a little girl with long black hair and big blue eyes, who had her daddy wrapped around her finger? She was having his baby and she found she not only was okay with that, she wanted it more than anything in the world. "You're going to be such a wonderful father, Killian."

His shy smile, with that touch of disbelief she knew so well, made her heart melt. His lips touched hers while the Jolly Roger rocked gently beneath them. All was right in the world.

Emma awoke to the unpleasant feeling of wet sand against her face. Opening one eye, she could see she was, indeed, lying on cold, wet sand. She groaned as she rolled over and tried to get her bearings. What the hell had happened? She had been on the Jolly Roger, she remembered the storm. Oh right - Ursula. Ugh, that ugly old barnacle was going to pay for this. Just as soon as she figured out where the hell she was, she would get right on that.

Sitting up was an effort. She felt bone-deep exhausted, and not in that pleasant way that Killian had been tiring her out lately. She had taken a real bruising. A sudden cough took her by surprise and had her retching a surprising amount of salty water onto the sand.

"You'll feel better if you get it all out of you, Emma. Your kind can't tolerate much sea water."

She opened her eyes to find the owner of the voice, which sounded very familiar. Seeing no one on the stretch of sand nearby, she turned her gaze to the water, where waves were gently lapping in the night air.

"Ariel?" she rasped.

"Yes, it's me. How are you feeling?"

"Not the best I've ever felt, but I'll live. Where are we?"

"A small deserted island in one of the maritime realms. My sisters and I felt the disturbance that brought you here. The maelstrom portal was a very strong one, quite violent. It was felt throughout the underwater kingdoms. We arrived in time to see the Jolly Roger burst up through the funnel. I knew something terrible must've happened. I was swimming toward it when I saw you in the water - I thought at first you might be dead. I could feel Ursula's evil coursing through the current. When I got to you, you were still breathing so it seemed like getting you out of there was a good idea. My sisters and I swam with you as far as we could, but Ursula's reach in the oceans is long - I fear for your safety."

"Thank you, Ariel. I really owe you one. What about the ship - Hook and the others?" If that witch put so much as one slimy tentacle on her people, even Sparrow, she would regret it.

"I don't know. It was still intact when we left, but Ursula or Neptune probably have them now," she said sadly.

"Great," she ran her hands through her tangled hair. "Now what?"


	9. Tortuga

Emma still wasn't sure this was the best plan, but it was the only one she could come up with. She stood fanning the flames with a palm frond, watching them grow twice as high as her head. She paused to return Ariel's wave. The mermaid was bobbing well out in the surf. She was waiting as they had agreed to see if the passing ship would take the bait. The fumes from the soaked rum barrels going up in the roaring bonfire were making her eyes water. Turned out this little island was a secret cache for some pirate's rum and plunder. She borrowed a handful of gold coins from the stash. The rum barrels were now forming her rescue beacon. She couldn't wait to see Killian's face when she told him how many gallons of rum were sacrificed to this operation. Her face fell when she thought of him pacing the deck of the Jolly Roger, thinking she was drowned. She had to get to him as soon as possible. She redoubled her efforts with the fire.

It took some time to be sure, but the passing ship had indeed seen her signal fire and had anchored as close as it dared to her little island. She had no idea what the flags it flew signified, but it looked like a beautiful, large clipper ship. A small boat was lowered over the side with a handful of occupants, and she decided it was time for Ariel to get back to Eric and gave her the signal to make herself scarce. The redheaded mermaid waved in return and was gone with a swish of her tail above the waves. Emma hoped she could repay her someday for saving her life.

The landing craft made its way to her over the waves. The men sitting upright inside looked right out of a history book. Stiff blue and white uniforms and tricorne hats, along with swords and muskets. Some sort of official navy, maybe? She knew Killian had been an officer at one point. She found herself wishing she'd asked him more about that part of his past. She had no idea how she'd explain her situation to them, much less convince them to help her.

She took a deep breath and stepped forward to greet her rescuers.

* * *

Hook was spared from having to think much on his grief. The seas had risen yet again and they had glimpsed the Black Pearl a few nautical miles off the bow. He hadn't the slightest idea where Ursula had got off to or what her intentions were, or if Davey Jones was still spoiling for a fight. In any case, if they were all ignoring the Jolly Roger for the time being, he would gladly take the opportunity to get the hell out of there.

"Mate, sorry to disturb, but have you the faintest idea what we ought to do next?"

"Well, Sparrow, my immediate plan is to get us the bloody hell out of here and find a safe harbor."

"A suggestion, if I may?"

"All ears, mate."

"Tortuga. Last I was 'ereabouts it was one of the few places left unmolested by Jones and his crews. Judging by that spit of land o'er there, should be about a day's sail due west. And a spot of rum wouldn't be unwelcome at this juncture," he added quietly.

"Aye. Not a bad plan, Sparrow. Help make ready the ship, will you?"

He glanced sadly to where David leaned against the rail with his head in his hands. Hook wasn't a father himself, but he thought he could imagine what David was feeling. His own grief was threatening to pull him under. A bone-deep weariness had descended upon him and he gripped the helm tighter just to stay upright. Tortuga it would be, though he wasn't sure he cared any longer where he ended up. Only the thought of Liam still needing his help gave him reason to struggle on. He had to help David return to his own family as well, which wasn't going to be easy. But that's what Emma would've wanted him to do, and he would do it in her memory. After that, well...let the seas bloody well take him. He had naught to live for after that. The rain misted against his face, mingled with tears.

* * *

Emma was gratefully stripping off her soaked clothing in the tiny cabin the Captain had granted her. She hadn't needed to worry about convincing them to help her. One bat of her eyelashes and a slight tremble of her lips, and the crew had fallen over themselves to help her onto the launch and out to their ship. Chivalry was not dead, it seemed, at least in this realm. Captain Laurence had been extremely gracious despite eyeing her foreign clothing with disdain. Apparently, pants on a woman was definitely not a thing in this realm. How was she always ending up in places that insisted on dressing women in layers of corsets and wool? At least they didn't have any dresses to offer her on board the ship. One of the officers of slighter build had offered her his extra uniform. It was a surprisingly comfortable fit, or perhaps it just felt heavenly after being in wet jeans for so long. She lay down on the narrow cot. Her last thought before drifting off was that a wish that she'd have that wonderful dream about Killian again.

When she awoke, it was nearly dark outside. She pulled on the ornate blue jacket and buttoned it snugly. Her hair she combed through as best she could and wound up into a high bun. On a ship full of men, no matter how honorable, she figured it might be best not to look too feminine if she could avoid it.

She left her cabin in search of the captain. She needed to figure out where to find the Jolly Roger and its crew.

Captain Laurence was at the helm. This ship was easily twice the size of the Jolly Roger. It was clear the captain knew his business. The ship was spotless and the crew sailed her beautifully.

"Ah, Miss Swan. You are looking rested. The cabin was to your liking, I hope?"

"It was a huge improvement over a desert island, thank you again for rescuing me, Captain." She flashed him her best innocent-yet-womanly smile.

He favored her with a blushing smile in return. She knew he was flirting with her, in his straitlaced way. Ever since she'd explained that her own ship had been set upon by pirates and she'd thrown herself overboard rather than be taken prisoner, he'd practically tripped over himself to offer her safe passage aboard his vessel.

"I imagine you're quite tired after your ordeal. I'm afraid we will have to impose upon you for a short time further. The realm has never faced a threat the likes of the one posed by Davey Jones and his ilk. The Royal Navy is stretched thin these days and The Temeraire has been selected to execute a mission of the utmost importance. Unfortunately it cannot be delayed."

"Of course, Captain. I'm just grateful you saw my bonfire and stopped for me in the first place."

"I'm certainly glad of that myself. Though you might not be so grateful when you hear where we're going," he grimaced. "It's an unpleasant place, most certainly unfit for a lady, or even decent men of the Navy for that matter. It's a den of iniquity, in truth, but times such as these make for strange bedfellows. We must find what allies we can amongst even our natural enemies in order to defeat this wretched curse."

"Okay, that sounds terrible. Where is this place?"

"Tortuga, milady."

Emma was very thankful that she was well-rested enough to keep up the act of a shipwrecked ingénue, otherwise she might have betrayed her sudden glee by doing a little happy dance right there on the deck. She'd been puzzling over how to ask this upright officer to get her to the infamous Tortuga, the one place she knew in this realm that was guaranteed to be full of pirates. And if she was very lucky, it would have one pirate in particular she needed to wrap herself around in the worst way.


	10. Strange Bedfellows

"Best you put this on, Miss Swan."

She accepted the tricorne hat being offered her, frowning at it. "It's not really my style, Captain."

"'Tis indeed a shame to hide your beauty in a seaman's uniform, but the place we seek is not a kind one to women. I would feel greatly relieved if you would be willing to pass yourself off as one of the crew."

Emma nodded and tugged the ugly thing down over her bun. Well, Hook would get a good laugh out of this, at least.

"We should arrive in an hour's time. Flying the white flag, we should be able to approach and find a place to dock without incident, but one can never trust these pirates."

Her eyes twinkled with mischief. "I know exactly what you mean, Captain. But maybe they'll surprise you."

He gave her a doubtful look and turned away to speak to one of his officers. She returned to her cabin and packed up her few belongings into a small cloth bag. She had cleaned her gun as best she could - hoping that the dunk in the ocean hadn't ruined it, she tucked it into her waistband beneath her coat. She headed back on deck just in time to hear "Land ho!" being yelled from the crow's nest.

The air was cooling as the weak sun sank quickly below the horizon. To their port side, a ragged island could be seen rising up from the misty ocean. She supposed the deep inlet with a play of firelights set around it must be their destination. The sea air was heavy with fog and the choppy water sent sprays over the bow as The Temeraire made toward it at full sail. Emma's pulse was pounding. _Please, please_, she thought. _Please let him be there_.

* * *

Hook was most decidedly NOT enjoying Tortuga. In days past, it had been a favorite destination of his. Much to trade, much to enjoy, much to lose oneself in. Now, the rum tasted like kerosene in his mouth and the women who plied him with it repulsed him with their touch. The pleasures of Tortuga were not wasted on his companion, however. Sparrow was sitting across the rough table from him in one of the many taverns of ill repute that ringed the harbor. He had a girl slung across his lap and was well into his third mug of rum. Killian picked at his food. It was useless. He rose to leave. Better to be alone with his pain aboard the Jolly Roger.

"Oy, where you off to mate?" slurred Sparrow.

"Back to my ship. Stay, enjoy yourself while you can."

"I fully intend to, mate. I'll see you back aboard a bit later," said Sparrow as he returned his attention to the cleavage on display under his nose. "Well, hopefully more than a bit, right, me love?"

Hook turned to leave. He remembered to take the parcel of food for David, who hadn't disembarked with them when they made land. He'd barely spoken or moved since they made port.

As Killian climbed the gangplank, he thought he might sleep for a week. He couldn't remember ever being more exhausted. Jumping down onto the deck, a sudden memory of Emma in her Enchanted Forest garb leading the other version of himself aboard hit him like a blow. _If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were jealous. _That was what she had said to him in the pub, before setting off to seduce the other Hook. It had rankled to admit, but it was deeply, uncomfortably true. Seeing his past self kissing her belowdecks, seeing Emma lose herself in the moment and kiss him back, he'd absolutely lost control of his temper and knocked the bastard out. It had been immensely satisfying. The memory of her standing there looking so beautiful, cheeks pink and lips swollen...so passionate, his Swan. He could see the effect he had on her so clearly in that unguarded moment, how much she truly wanted him. It cut him to the bone to remember it now.

He silently placed the food beside David, who was still sitting on the deck, his legs dangling between the rails as he stared out to sea. Hook knew he could say or do nothing for the man, so he made his way below deck and lay down fully clothed on the bed. Her scent. God, her scent was here. Turning his head into the pillow, he inhaled deeply. His breath turned into a wracking sob and he clutched the pillow to him, silently shaking with his grief. Emma. Oh, Emma, love.

"Ahoy! I say, ahoy there!"

Hook snapped out of his misery at the sound of an approaching ship. Shouts could be heard coming from the dock and a bell started ringing. He rolled out of bed with a groan. Bloody hell, what now?

Above decks, it didn't take long to divine the source of the commotion. A huge clipper was approaching the port. A vessel of the Royal Navy, here in Tortuga? _Now I've seen bloody everything,_ thought Hook. The populace of the pirate town was going appropriately apeshit. What the hell was it doing here? He pulled out his spyglass. It was running a white flag. Interesting, indeed. _Neptune's nutsack, was that The Temeraire?_ It certainly looked like her, and she appeared to be very close to making port in Tortuga. He looked quickly around the docks. The berths were almost entirely full. There was but one open spot in the waters deep enough for a vessel of her draft, and it was directly adjacent to the Jolly Roger. He sighed. If it weren't for bad luck, he'd have no luck at all.

* * *

Emma stayed just behind the captain as the crew ran frantically around the ship, tucking this and stowing that as they approached Tortuga. She thought there was more than just urgency to their actions. There was a distinct nervousness to the crew that increased the closer they approached. The warm glowing lights of the small village ringing the harbor was a welcome sight. The ships bobbing gently up and down in the docks was even more welcome. She was itching to find the Jolly Roger. Was she docked here? Was Killian aboard, waiting for her?

Bouncing up and down on her toes, she was having a hard time standing still. The captain turned, and mistaking her demeanor for nervousness, gave her a reassuring smile. He was really a pretty decent guy, this Captain Laurence.

"Put yourself at ease, Miss Swan. If you stay aboard and out of sight, I've no doubt you will remain safe."

"Of course, Captain. Can I take a look through your spyglass? I'm dying of curiosity." She gave him her most innocent look.

"Certainly, my dear. I give to you, the infamous pirate haven - Tortuga."

She took the spyglass and began sweeping it across the ships in port. There! There was the Jolly Roger! _He was here. Thank god_. She exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. _Hold on, Killian. I'm almost there. _

* * *

Hook debated untying the Jolly and getting out of there posthaste, but Sparrow was still in port and he also found himself curiously apathetic about the potential conflict about to brew. Let Captain Laurence come for him, if he wished. It was truly the least of his concerns at the moment.

He leaned against the helm with resignation and waited for the ship to come in. David had stood, finally, and came to stand beside him.

"What's all the commotion about, Hook?" The emptiness in David's tone was unmistakable.

"Well, for the first time in living memory, a ship of the King's Royal Navy is making its way to port in Tortuga, under a white flag. You might say it's something of a rarity."

"Is that a bleeding ship of the bloody realm, mates?" called Sparrow. He leapt onto the deck with an unsteady flourish, reeking of more rum than usual.

"Aye, 'tis The Temeraire, as a matter of fact."

Sparrow gave a long, low whistle. "Shouldn't we be running for it then, mate? If memory serves, you and the good Captain Laurence have a bit of a hist'ry."

David looked at Hook questioningly. "What'd you do this time?"

"Long story. Let's say that the Jolly Roger outsailed what was supposedly the fastest ship in the fleet. The captain of the Temeraire was not best pleased."

"Don't sell yourself short, mate. I heard - "

Sparrow stopped short at the look Killian gave him. Apparently he was still sober enough to check himself before Killian had to do it for him.

David observed all this with detachment. "Well, whatever you did, Hook, I take it that this captain isn't going to be too happy to see you?"

"That's an accurate assessment, mate. And it would appear he will be docking directly next to us just over there."

"Fantastic."

* * *

"Good heavens, is that The Jolly Roger, sir?"

"Indeed it is," responded Captain Laurence to his first officer's query, with a grim expression.

"Why, what's the Jolly Roger?" asked Emma carefully.

"A pirate vessel captained by a one-handed brigand by the name of Hook." His tone of voice left no doubt where Captain Hook landed in his estimation, which was approximately somewhere below that of a rotting fish carcass left on his pristine deck.

Emma grinned despite herself. "What did this criminal do, exactly?"

"Suffice it to say, if my duty allows, I will find a way to walk that man from The Temeraire's plank over the deepest point of the ocean I can find."

_Just great. Hook, you never make things easy, do you?_ Emma sighed and was trying to come up with an adjustment to the plan that took this new drama into account, when the ship began to slow in preparation to dock. The Jolly Roger was so close she was able to make out three figures standing on deck, one of them leaning in a familiar, rakish fashion against the helm.

"Bloody arrogant bastard," muttered the usually polite captain at her side.

The docks were a hubbub of activity. Emma got the impression that the pirates on the receiving end of this visit were just as nervous as the crew on the ship. The situation was a tinder box, just waiting for a spark.

Lines were cast down to the dock and agile crew members swung down to guide and secure The Temeraire in place, a handful of steps from where the Jolly Roger rocked gently. Torches were necessary for light as full dark had descended. Emma had just decided to sneak down one of the ropes when a voice boomed through the misty air.

"Ahoy, who captains this vessel?"

A portly man with a long red beard and masses of garish jewelry festooning his pirate costume was standing on the dock below the ship, looking up at the vessel with an exasperated expression.

"I, Captain William Laurence, am captain of the Temeraire, flagship of the King's Royal Navy," called the captain in response.

There was whispering and snickering in the crowd of milling pirates gathered along the docks. The atmosphere could only have felt less welcoming if someone started firing at them. Emma shifted nervously. How on earth was she going to get to the Jolly Roger, especially in this ridiculous uniform?

"And what brings ye to our humble refuge, Captain? Your ship does'na seem to be distressed. Have ye heard of the reputation of our whorehouses and come to let your crew have a taste?"

The crowd rumbled with chuckles and catcalls at that.

The captain turned red but seemed determined to shrug off the insult. "I'm afraid your ladies will have to make do with their usual customers. We come on official business of the realm. We face a shared threat and have come to propose a strategic alliance."

The fat man seemed genuinely surprised. "I believe I know of what you speak, Captain. Shall I come aboard to discuss terms or would you prefer to adjourn to one of our many fine houses? I guarantee the company will be more hospitable if you'll agree to accompany me."

The crowd laughed again. Captain Laurence looked pleased, however. His mission appeared to be underway. "Best you come up, if indeed you speak for the pirates gathered here. We have much to discuss."

Emma paced up and down the deck. The fat man and a few of his men had been gathered inside with the captain for some time, but the crowds on the dock were still thick and the deck of the Temeraire was swarming with sailors. It would be impossible to sneak away in the midst of all this. She would have to bide her time. She glanced over to where Hook and her father were standing on the deck together. They looked exhausted and miserable. She was so desperate to let them know she was alive. This was torture.

But it was torture that was about to come to an abrupt end. The negotiations had concluded after an eternity of waiting and the Captain emerged with the fat man looking very pleased. He accompanied him down the gangplank speaking quietly. The fat man paused and turned to the crowd.

"As ye all know, Davey Jones and his scurvy crew have bewitched our fallen brethren to do their unholy bidding from beyond the grave. A bloody ugly business, that. Not to mention they be taking all the plunder and pretties for themselves, these days, leaving naught but scraps for the rest of us."

Emma heard laughter and shouts of "hear hear" from the crowd.

"Strange though it may be, to fight such a foe requires strength in numbers and ships which we sorely lack. The good captain here proposes we join forces, temporary-like, to put an end to Jones' and his dastardly ways. What say ye?"

There was some grumbling and cursing but a general chorus of "ayes" went up from the crowd.

"The King thanks you for your service to the crown in this endeavor and will see to it you are fairly compensated."

"I understand he's compensated pirates well in the past, with his own sister's virtue, isn't that right, mate?"

You could've heard a pin drop on the dock. Emma's mouth hung open in shock. In a stage whisper that could've carried back to Storybrooke, Jack Sparrow had just drunkenly thrown the lit match onto the kindling. In a heartbeat, every sailor on the Temeraire had dropped what they were doing and launched themselves at the Jolly Roger. All was shouting and confusion. Weapons were drawn and when the first musket fired, the situation went utterly out of control. Emma tried to keep an eye on Hook as she made her way down to the dock, dodging pockets of fighting where drunken pirates had jumped into the fray with the Temeraire's crew.

"HOOK! Face me you coward! You'll pay for the slight to his Majesty's honor with your life!"

The normally reserved captain was bellowing as he ran up the Jolly Roger's gangplank. Emma ran to catch up. She wasn't about to let some stupid fight for honor derail her reunion with Killian. When she reached the deck, Killian had his sword drawn and was backing away from Laurence. She skidded to a stop and ducked down behind the cargo hatch. David and Sparrow were both locked in fierce combat with officers from The Temeraire. She thought frantically of some way to put the brakes on this stupid fight.

"I don't want to fight you, mate. We're on the same side now, you know. That business with the King's sister is well in the past." God, it was good to hear Killian's voice. Wait - what business with the King's sister exactly? She made a note to ask him about that later. It better not be what it sounded like.

"Kidnapping and ransoming the princess wasn't enough for you, you vile dog?! You had to deflower her as well and ruin her upcoming nuptials. You did untold damage to an innocent girl, her reputation and the kingdom's future. You'll pay for it with your life."

Killian tilted his head. He sounded irritated. "Two things to note, mate: one - that girl was no innocent lass. The plan to kidnap and ransom her was arranged by she herself to avoid her upcoming nuptials entirely. I did as she instructed and was compensated very handsomely. It seems she took some issue with her brother's plans for her future. As to the supposed deflowering, that will remain between the lady and myself. Secondly, I think you're really just upset that I got her out from under your nose and outsailed The Temeraire in making our escape. Admit it. I'm the better captain." He smirked at him - and Emma smiled a secret smile. That was the Hook she knew and loved.

Laurence was almost purple with rage. He launched himself at Hook with a murderous roar. Their swords clashed mightily as they ranged over the deck. Both were excellent swordsmen, but it was obvious to her that Hook wasn't at his best. Clearly he'd had almost no rest since their ordeal. He was losing ground and the captain was fueled by rage. Emma's heart was pounding.

Hook lost his balance and went down on one knee. Laurence swung his sword downward at him, straight for his head. Emma unholstered her gun. Killian swung his hook up to block the blow and the sword slid inches from his face with a long metal scrape. Emma cocked the gun as she stepped forward. She fired a round into the air before leveling it at the captain.

"I don't want to shoot you, Captain. But if you harm one hair on that man's head, I promise you will regret it."

The action on deck ceased entirely. Several sets of eyes were staring at her in shock. She grabbed the rim of the stupid hat she was still wearing and tossed it to the deck.

"Swan?" Killian's faint voice brought tears to her eyes. She risked a look at him and it nearly undid her. The look on his face was pure joy mingled with profound relief. She knew because she was feeling it as well.

"Emma?" choked her father. David shoved away from the officer he was struggling with and stumbled toward her. He grabbed her up in a desperate embrace, muttering "thank god, thank god" under his breath. She kept her gun trained on Laurence, who looked like he could be knocked over with a feather.

"Miss Swan, I asked you to remain aboard my ship. What on earth are you doing?"

"I'm asking you nicely, one more time, to get your sword away from Killian's head before I put a bullet in your leg."

He shook his head in amazement. "I can't fathom what you mean by this, milady. But I have a sworn duty to protect the King's honor. This man has wronged me and my kingdom profoundly and must pay for his crimes."

She sighed with impatience as she gently disengaged from her father. "You boys are all on my last nerve, so let me make this easy for everyone. We are all on the same side, fighting Ursula and Jones together. We can't afford to waste time settling petty squabbles from the past. Either we all agree to play nicely, or-"

"Or what, Miss Swan, you're going to shoot me? Please, no decent lady would do such a thing."

Emma gave Killian a saucy smile before replying. "I guess you're not dealing with a decent lady, Captain. You're dealing with a woman in love with a pirate. And no, I don't think I will shoot you. The lack of antibiotics in this realm is really scary. But I might just burn The Temeraire into ash if you don't drop your sword in the next ten seconds."

To make good on her threat, she upturned a palm and called forth a small fireball. Crew and pirates both shrank away from her. Whispers of "magic" and "witch" spread through the crowd as the fight dispersed and the pirates fled away from the docks.

"My god." Laurence dropped his sword to the deck with a clang.

She extinguished the flame and leapt toward Killian as if her life depended on it. He had pushed himself off the deck and launched himself at her. They smashed into each other and held on for dear life. From the sounds of footsteps it seemed the deck of the Jolly Roger was clearing out, but neither one of them noticed. Hook pulled back far enough to put his hand up to her face and look into her eyes.

"How?"

"Ariel saved me when we came through the whirlpool. She took me to an island and I eventually caught a ride with Captain Boy Scout over there."

"Nice disguise."

"I thought you'd get a kick out of it."

"I'll get a bigger kick stripping you out of it straightaway, love."

He grabbed her tight to him again but not before she saw the tear running down his cheek. She felt her eyes well up again. The last days had been horrible for her, but for Killian they had been a true nightmare. She could only imagine.

"Come on, let's go to bed, Killian. I need to be with you."

He nodded and pulled away, grabbing her hand and pulling her behind him. When they reached the cabin, he shut the door behind them and whirled her around, pressing her up against the wall hard and fast. Her hands wound around his neck and up into his hair. He ground against her and she lifted one leg to hook around his waist and pulled him tight against her. Their mouths sought one another in a passionate kiss that communicated more than words alone could've done. So much love and longing that it broke Emma's heart. She never wanted to be apart from this man ever again. She broke the kiss with a ragged sigh and tugged at his coat. He helped her slip it off and then went to work unbuttoning the too-tight officer's jacket she wore. It landed on the floor as she raised her arms. First he slid the pins out of her bun to let her hair fall loose around them. Then he made short work of her blouse and pants as well. Down to just her panties and bra, she sought his mouth again. His arms came around her and he lifted her up against him. She wrapped her legs around him, pressing her hot mound against his rigid manhood.

Emma slid her fingers beneath his shirt and tugged up at his leather vest with a whine of impatience. He carried her over to the bed and laid her down. He went to work removing the rest of his own clothing while she arched her back to unclasp her bra and wriggle out of it. She was sliding her panties down when he joined her, grabbing them with his hook and sliding them off the rest of the way. He kissed his way up her knee and inner thigh before licking at her swollen pussy in a sudden frenzy of need. She was already hot and dripping wet for him. She pulled at his shoulders with frustration. He got the message and kissed his way up her stomach, stopping to suck strongly on first one, then the other nipple. He nipped it with his teeth sharply, making her hiss with pleasure. She rubbed herself against him. Licking her collarbone and lazily up her neck, she could feel him pressing his hot length against her core. Tilting her hips in invitation, her eyes met his as he drove himself home. A soft, delicate kiss on the lips, and then he began to move.

They had made love so many times, so many ways, but this was different. Maybe it was because they had cheated death, or because they might not have much time left, or they were both so exhausted, but this time there was a silent desperation. There was a deep hunger, a need, that they could only satisfy with each other. Emma matched his pace with her own thrusts and they moved frantically in rhythm. He was driving hard and deep and unmercifully against her walls and she could feel herself losing control. She wanted to take him with her, feel him come inside her as she fell apart. Her hands grabbed his ass and pulled him harder into her as she rose to meet his thrusts. His eyes met hers as their hands twined together over her head. She felt her climax slam into her with hurricane force. "Killian!" she screamed as she went over the edge. He kept thrusting into her, hitting that sweet tender spot inside over and over while she came violently. The orgasm seemed to go on and on. He buried himself to the hilt and yelled hoarsely, "Emma, love! oh fuck, Emma..." as he came inside her, holding her tightly to him. Her pussy clenched around his spasming cock, squeezing every drop of cum into her core. She wanted every bit of it. She wanted all of him.

He collapsed onto her, their sweaty skin sticking together pleasantly. It was some time before they moved or spoke. The pleasure of being with him again was beyond describing. She thought she might actually be glowing, she was so happy.

"I really thought I'd lost you, Emma."

He rolled over to lay beside her, his hook resting across her belly. His voice cracked slightly. "I didn't know how to go on, love."

"I'm so sorry, Killian. I got to you as quickly as I could," she mumbled against his chest hair. She draped her leg over his hip and snuggled in tighter.

He kissed her forehead. "Just promise me you'll give it some thought before smarting off to Ursula next time, all right?"

"Mmmmm. I'll try."

She felt him smile against her hair. "You were bloody amazing up there Swan. If I weren't already madly in love with you, I'd have fallen for you a hundred times over watching you face down that blubbering fool of a captain."

"Hmm. Well, we'll talk about that princess deflowering thing tomorrow. Too tired right now to deal."

"All right, love. I haven't slept since I saw you go over the side of the Jolly Roger. Every time I closed my eyes, it replayed for me again and again."

"Shhhhh. I'm not going anywhere, love. Go to sleep, Killian."

"I love you, Swan."

"Mmmmmm love you too..."

They drifted off to the gentle rocking of the Jolly Roger, wrapped around each other.

* * *

Ursula watched the two lovebirds fall asleep in the depths of her crystal ball. Fools. Well, now at least she knew that the Savior survived her little whirlpool. She admitted that she shouldn't have lost her temper like that. A dead witch would be useless to her schemes. At least the Savior's magic seemed even more powerful here in this realm, which she suspected might happen. Settling back into her throne with a sigh, she tapped her long nails on the arm of the chair and contemplated her next move. She needed this woman's magic, but how to get it? Brute force hadn't worked, so she couldn't be intimidated outright. An enemy such as this required cunning and preparation. And Ursula had yet to find a foe she couldn't outthink. Her tentacles swirled through the dark water, floating on the ceaseless current of her underwater lair. She would find a way.


	11. Reunited

Killian woke abruptly with his heart pounding out of his chest. Whatever that dream had been about, it hadn't been good. He ran a hand over his sweaty brow and shook his head to clear it. A small distressed mewl came from Emma where she lay beside him. His breath caught. She was really here. Alive and beautiful- and somehow, in love with him. Perhaps this was still a dream. The good sort. He placed his hand gently on her chest, savoring the steady beat of her heart below his fingertips. She was frowning, sweat beading her face. A nightmare must have her in its grip as well. He slid his hand up the curve of her neck and cupped her face, rubbing his thumb across an impossibly soft cheek. "Emma, love," he murmured. "It's just a dream, darling."

She moaned quietly and a tear slid down her cheek. _Damnation._ He kissed her lips gently. "Shhhh, Emma, wake up sweetheart," he whispered against her lips.

He heard her sharp intake of breath as she surfaced from the depths of whatever nightmare had held her. Opening his eyes, he could see hers were wide with confusion. He kept stroking her cheek as she got her bearings and her breathing slowed. Her gaze softened as she reached up and twined her arms around his neck.

"Bad dream?" he whispered.

"Mmmhmm. Feeling much better now, though," she murmured through a soft smile.

Her hair was gloriously disheveled. In fact, she had the look of a woman who'd been thoroughly ravished the night before. Which in fact, she had - more than once. So bloody gorgeous. He leaned in for a kiss, with more than comfort on his mind suddenly. She caught the wicked gleam in his eye and kissed him back with a throaty chuckle.

"Hold your horses, pirate. Is it morning?" she asked breathily, pulling away to sit up. She kneeled to look out the porthole, letting the sheet fall away. His gaze was drawn to her perfect breasts, rosy nipples stiffening in the cool morning air. "We need to find a way to let Henry and Mary Margaret know we're all o- oh"

She chuckled again as her answer was cut off by Hook kneeling behind her. He pressed his length firmly against her shapely backside as he teased first one nipple and then the other into rock hard peaks. He loved how responsive she was to his touch. She leaned her head back against his shoulder and arched her back slightly, keeping her ass pressed against his hard shaft. He wrapped his left arm about her narrow waist and held her tightly to him as his good hand slid from her breast slowly down to her cleft. Killian groaned as he slid his fingers into her slick heat. Gods, she was already so wet for him. He found her swollen clit and began running a light circle over it. She parted her legs further with a breathy sigh. "Mmmm Killian..."

He closed his eyes at the rush of pleasure. When she said his name like that...

He needed to be inside her, now.

Pulling away just far enough to position himself behind her, he tugged her hips toward him. She accommodated him by parting her legs wider and leaning toward the wall of the cabin, bracing herself against the wood paneling. He could feel her wetness dripping down the inside of her thighs and thought for a moment he might come before he even entered her. She swung her hips slightly, urging him on. So impatient, his Swan. He placed the tip of his cock at her pulsing core and slid it in just a fraction, savoring the molten slickness that enveloped him like a velvet glove. She pushed herself toward him, whining with desperation. He reached around to slide his fingers against her clit again. Rubbing in a soft circular motion, he could feel her core contract. My god, was she coming already? He couldn't hold back any longer. He slammed himself forward, burying himself to the hilt. He slid back out almost completely and back in again, trying to go slowly. She was so tight, so hot. He kept his fingers working her hard little clit. He needed to hear her scream his name as she came all over him. He swung in, pressing himself against her as deep as he could go, balls brushing against her dripping cleft. He couldn't help himself - he needed to fuck her, to pound her until she came apart, to come inside her until he had nothing left to give. The sound of skin slapping skin in an urgent rhythm was punctuated with moans and the slick liquid sound of his cock driving into her dripping core. He gripped her hips and pulled her against him with each desperate thrust. She was matching his thrusts with her own. He knew she was close to the edge, and he would be right behind her.

"Oh god, Killian! I'm -oh - oh yes YES!"

Her nailed scraped the wood paneling as she clenched around him tightly. It was like a hot, slick vise wrapping around his cock, milking him with the most pleasurable pressure he'd ever experienced. He felt his balls tightening and then he was lost. He buried himself to the hilt shouting her name, spurting long hot rope after rope of his seed into her shuddering womb.

She leaned back against him, breathing hard. He took her weight easily and held her to him. The most radiating calm he'd ever known settled over him. He could feel her spasming around his cock with the aftershocks of their lovemaking. Leaning gently to the side, he brought them down to the mattress and spooned her, keeping himself inside her.

He could hear the port around them waking up, the general clamor of the docks coming to life. It all seemed terribly distant and unimportant. Emma was completely relaxed in his arms. He could sense her drifting off again. He nuzzled her hair and tightened his arm around her possessively before following his love into a deep, hopefully dreamless, sleep.


	12. Trouble

**_Thanks everyone for the kind reviews. I thought our lovers deserved a prolonged and very steamy reunion scene. Too bad it can't last! Alas, trouble is brewing at sea...and where these two go, trouble is never far behind._**

Despite a not unpleasant soreness after the night's activities, it felt damn good to be back in jeans. It seemed that nearly anything went in Tortuga. A woman wearing pants and a leather jacket, while not the norm, didn't cause too much of a stir. She had walked past a woman whose dark skin was entirely covered in tattoos, from scalp to cleavage, and a man with wild hair who had a decorative bone piercing clean through his nose.

A very shabby-looking pirate was leering at her from a doorway, though, as they wandered through the market. Hook walked a little closer to her side and raised his hook to the small of her back protectively. There was a time when she would've minded, but she admitted a small thrill of delight at his gesture. What on earth had happened to her? She sighed resignedly. The mature, independent Emma Swan seemed to have taken an indefinite vacation, leaving a lovestruck teenager in her place.

She'd tried to hide her joy from Regina when she made contact through the mirror that morning. From the expression on Regina's face, she doubted it had worked. Unfortunately, Regina was the only one she could reach this way. It was something of a double-sided connection. She had visualized the mirror in Regina's house, and Regina had been close enough to sense the presence of magic and reached out toward the mirror with her own power. It had been just like making a FaceTime call, only...magical. Regina had promised to convey to Henry and Mary Margaret that she and David were fine, albeit trapped in another realm at the moment and in the midst of a struggle with Ursula.

Or, as Regina had put it, "must be a day that ends with a 'y'". Then she had snapped the connection shut. It was going to take some time to rebuild their fragile friendship. Well, friendship was a strong word. More like truce. But still, they'd come so far, and now...

It was still cold and gray but at least it had finally stopped raining while they ran their errands in Tortuga proper. They were picking up provisions and various items to repair the Jolly Roger. Hook, of course, kept a small reserve of gold coins stashed aboard the ship, but he had whistled appreciatively at the small treasure she'd "borrowed" from the hoard on the pirate's hideaway island. As she'd expected, he'd groaned like he'd been stabbed when she told him about the number of barrels of rum she'd lit on fire to signal for rescue. "At least they were sacrificed to a good cause, lass. But that does hit a man where it hurts."

They found a reasonably clean-looking pub higher up from the main street that had a picturesque view of the port. They settled in for lunch.

"So you came here a lot? To Tortuga?" she asked Hook as they waited for their beers to arrive, trying not to sound annoyed. She'd rolled her eyes at the waitress falling all over him when they placed their orders. Apparently, Sparrow was right: her pirate did have a bit of a reputation with the ladies. She was trying very hard not to let that bother her, but a tiny little spark of jealousy flared in her heart seeing another woman flirt with Hook. He seemed perfectly aware of all this too, the infuriating man.

"Aye. It's a major port of call for all those who traffic in the illicit. And as you can see, it has everything a disreputable shellback could want." Killian's face fell as he said the words. Liam.

She leaned forward and squeezed his hand. "Don't worry, Killian. We'll find a way."

He gave her a grateful look and leaned in for a lingering kiss. "I don't know what I did to deserve you, love."

"You did quite a lot to deserve me last night," she murmured. She gave him a wink as she raised her mug. "-and this morning. Cheers."

"Cheers, Swan," he smiled at her as they clinked mugs, trying, and failing, not to look too pleased with himself.

Emma had the sudden absurd feeling she was on vacation. Relaxing in some exotic port with Killian, not a care in the world. Totally ridiculous. She grinned into her mug and listened to a pair of pirates that were settling into the seats next to them.

"...so then I weighed anchor at Pisces like usual, and made me way to land to pick up the booty where I vouchsafed it not two weeks afore, and you know what I found? Half me casks of rum split open and burnt to a crisp in a big sodding pile on the sand, and me safe full of gold missing twenty pieces out o' fifty!"

Emma choked on her beer. Hook pounded her on the back with a look of concern. Eyes watering, she listened to the exasperated pirate complain to his comrade, head in his hands and eyes wild.

"Bizarre, that is mate," replied his confidante, sounding bored.

"Aye. I canna' figure it out for the bleeding life of me! No one knew it was there, and if someone came up on it by chance, why burn half me rum to vapors-", he sounded on the verge of tears at the thought "-and take but half the gold?"

"No idea, Bartleby. Sounds like your thief weren't much of a pirate, if he stole less than half the plunder and wasted good rum on a campfire."

Hook had finally overheard what they were saying and caught Emma's eye. He grinned at her over his mug and was clearly trying not to laugh. Emma kicked him under the table and turned away. If she looked at him one second longer she would lose it.

"And it were a good quality, too, mate. I swear on me mum's grave, if I ever find the bloody scoundrel who nicked-"

Emma's head spun and her ears were ringing. She pushed herself up to a sitting position. She was on the ground, amid splinters of debris and puddles of ale on the cobblestones. Touching her hand to her temple, her fingers came away bloody. What the hell?

She felt hands, or rather a hand and a hook, grab her under her arms and lift. "Killian?" Her voice sounded faint. Everything was muffled. Was there an explosion? The air was full of smoke.

"We have to get to the ship!" yelled Killian. There was a nasty cut across his cheekbone. She nodded. She felt dizzy. He grabbed her hand and they took off at a run toward the docks. They hadn't gone ten paces before another explosion rocked the ground beneath them. Half of the wooden structures in the market were blown to pieces in a shower of splinters. A better part of the town seemed to be on fire. Alarm bells were ringing throughout Tortuga. Either someone in this realm had invented C4, or there was magic at work here.

They pushed their way through the chaos at the docks. All the sailors were attempting to get their ships ready to sail at one time. Emma could see The Temeraire swarming with crewmen trying to get her underway. As they rounded the corner of their dock and came broadside to the ship, she gasped. The Temeraire had taken a direct hit of some kind to the stern. A huge chunk of her was missing. There was a gaping wound of charred, twisted timbers just below the level of the top deck. At least it was well above the water. A few deckhands were continuing to toss buckets of water on the damage: it must've caught fire when it was hit. She felt a sudden spike of terror for the Jolly Roger. Hook had sprinted way ahead of her while she had stopped to gape at The Temeraire. She ran to catch up. She closed her eyes in silent thanks when she saw the Jolly Roger had somehow escaped damage thus far, though she was still in rough shape from the journey through the whirlpool. Climbing the gangplank, she yelled for David and Sparrow. If they were on board, they were all getting the hell out of there immediately. ]

"Emma! What's happening? We seem to be under attack from the bay but there's nothing out there!" yelled David.

She was about to ask about Sparrow when his voice called down from the crow's nest. "I think there's something amiss out in the bay, but I can't make out what it is, mates!"

Emma peered out over the water but couldn't see anything unusual. A sudden whistling sound pierced the air overhead and moments later, another explosion of fire and debris came from the docks. The air was full of smoke and terrified shouting. Whatever that was, it definitely came from out over the water. She ran over to the main mast and began to climb. When she reached the crow's nest, Sparrow looked surprised to see her. "Impressive, Miss Swan."

She rolled her eyes at him. "What did you see?"

He didn't respond, instead merely pointing out to the bay. She squinted to where he indicated. She wasn't sure what she was looking at. The gray of the water and the gray of the horizon nearly blended together in the watery light. Wait - what was that hazy area just a few hundred yards from shore? It was like seeing a glitch in an old film, when the frames didn't quite line up from one to the next. In her mind's eye, she imagined wiping that area clean, as though she were wearing glasses with a smudge on them. Raising her hand, she spread her fingers wide and focused all her energy on revealing whatever was hidden from her. It was as though there had been a curtain of air and sea pulled up between them and the bay beyond. She could feel it there. With an angry slash of her hand, she pulled it away.

"I thought I'd seen everything, Miss Swan, until I met you," said Sparrow, who was staring out to see with a gobsmacked expression. "I hope you have a second trick up your sleeve, however."

"So do I," she whispered. Honestly, she had no idea what to do next. What her magic had allowed her to reveal was a cluster of a dozen or more ghostly ships gathered in the harbor, under a flag of two skulls facing each other on a field of black. An array of canons was aimed at the port of Tortuga in general, and, it seemed, the docks in particular, firing at will. Davey Jones had come for them again, and this time, he brought his friends.


	13. Sacrifice

chapter 13

Tortuga was lost. Emma could feel the heat of the flames from the town burning at her back, but she didn't dare turn to look at it. Sweat ran in rivulets down her face. Regina had never warned her about how taxing it was to use magic for prolonged periods. The barrage from the armada in the harbor seemed endless. No sooner would she bat down a fusillade and another round would be on its way. The acrid smoke of an ancient town going up in flames was making breathing difficult.

"I don't know how long I can keep this up!" she shouted, hoping Hook could hear her over the din. They needed to get the hell out of there. Almost all of the ships in the docks were aflame and many had already sunk to the bottom of the harbor. The shouts and screams of panicking townsfolk and pirates was drowned out intermittently by the bone-shaking boom of cannon fire. Emma knew if she turned to see it, Tortuga's streets would be strewn with bodies and wreckage.

Both the Jolly Roger and the Temeraire were being spared from destruction by Emma's magic for the moment, but her energy was depleting rapidly. Her hands were shaking where she held them, palms out, toward the armada of ships in the harbor. Whatever enchantment they were using on their cannons was very strong. It was taking all her concentration and then some to stop the clusters of fiery metal bombs being flung at them. She'd given up trying to hurl them all back to their origins. It was hard enough just keeping them from striking her ship and its neighbor.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a figure waving in their direction from the deck of the Temeraire. She didn't dare take her eyes from scanning the horizon but she recognized Captain Laurence's voice.

"Ahoy! Hook - is the Jolly Roger fit to sail?"

"Aye! We're ready - if you've any ideas as to how we'll make it out of this harbor, I'm all ears, Captain."

There was no hint of their previous animosity in their voices. Nothing like a brutal attack with small odds of survival to bring people together, Emma supposed.

"As it happens, I do. But the success of the plan depends upon Miss Swan. Miss Swan - I daresay you're occupied enough but if you could manage to protect our two ships whilst we are moving, I believe the Temeraire can give them a good fight. If we can keep them occupied, it might give the Jolly Roger time to escape."

"Not that I'm ungrateful, but I wouldn't have supposed you would be so eager to help us out of this situation at the expense of your own ship, Captain," called Hook.

"If it weren't for Miss Swan there, my ship would be on the bottom of the harbor by now, Hook. I would be the ungrateful one if I didn't take the opportunity she's granting us to take the fight to our enemy. If it allows Miss Swan the chance to escape as well, I believe we would be doing the realm a service."

"Always comes down to you, doesn't it, Savior?" Hook tossed her way, sounding both worried and affectionate. She couldn't spare even a smile in his direction. Another round of cannonballs was hurtling toward them. They met her wall of invisible resistance and fell into the sea harmlessly, but not before she wobbled and fell to one knee. Must have been that blow to the head earlier. She was dizzy and feeling more than a bit sick to her stomach.

"Emma!" she heard Killian and her father both shout her name, but their voices sounded like they were at the far end of a long tunnel. She took several deep breaths and tried to stop the world spinning. She planted her hands firmly on the deck of the Jolly Roger, determined not to puke all over it. She wasn't going to let these bastards sink their ship._ Get a hold of yourself, Swan_.

She'd been down only moments when they were enveloped by a swirling, malevolent rush of wind. The heavens suddenly opened. The downpour was cold and punishing, but it snapped her out of her daze very effectively. Killian and David were helping her to her feet, both looking grave.

"I'm fine! Really, guys, I've got this."

Hook opened his mouth like he was about to argue, but was interrupted when an explosion rocked them all back on their heels. The Temeraire had taken another hit beside them, this time midships. One more like that, and she'd be lost. She shrugged off their arms and resumed her fighter's stance, hands out toward the armada.

"Let's take the fight to them, then. We need to get the hell out of here or we'll burn with Tortuga," she said, more shakily than she wanted to sound. "Ready, Captain Laurence?" she shouted over to the Temeraire.

"Aye! We're at beam ends, Miss Swan. Keep those canons off us till we can get midway to the lead ship in the formation. We'll turn broadside and lay waste to as many ships as we can before Neptune takes us. Hook - make for the mouth of the harbor at as great a speed as you can manage. If memory serves," he added wryly, "your ship ought to be able to outrun them if we can give you a head start."

Hook raised his hand to his forehead and gestured toward the Captain with a small salute. "Fair winds and following seas, Captain," he called. Emma caught a note of sadness in his voice, and possibly a hint of grudging respect. It looked like Captain Laurence was going to sacrifice his beautiful ship to get them out of there. Mouth set in a grim line, she resolved to keep the Temeraire safe for as long as she could.

Sparrow struck the lashings and they pushed off from the dock. An immense flash of lightning forked through the sky overhead as the waves rocked them violently. Thunder cracked with a tremendous clap. The sky blackened and surged as though they were in the path of a category five hurricane. _Ursula, I know you're here somewhere, you tentacled bitch. I'll get around to you eventually_ - thought Emma darkly.

She muscled past her exhaustion and locked her trembling legs straight. Focusing on the ships in their path, she imagined a protective bubble surrounding the Jolly Roger and the Temeraire, whose wake they were following for the moment.

They were heading dead on toward the cluster of ghostly ships, most of which were firing explosive cannonballs directly at them. Emma was keeping up with the assault, but barely. One shot got through her defenses and struck the figurehead of the Temeraire. She had been a stately woman's figure, leading her elegant vessel through countless battles. Now she exploded into thousands of wooden shards that rained over the deck of the Jolly Roger. _Damn it._ Both ships being on the move and getting closer to the source of the artillery was making it nearly impossible to defend them both.

As if Hook read her mind, the Jolly Roger suddenly tacked sharply to port and headed nearly perpendicular to their previous path. The man was right about one thing: he was an excellent captain. The Jolly Roger flew along the white caps of the waves. She saw two or three of the enemy ships making as if to cut them off, but Hook was proud of the Jolly Roger's speed for good reason. It looked as though they would escape the harbor before Jones' ships could reach them, but it would be a close thing. She turned her attention back to the Temeraire. She was still able to knock down the artillery aimed at it, for the moment, but she wasn't sure from how far away her powers would still be effective.

The ship was turning broadside to its target, the Black Pearl. She had no way of knowing what was going on aboard the Temeraire, of course, but in her mind's eye she saw Captain Laurence giving the order to fire. All the canons aboard the Temeraire, more than twenty mighty guns in all, blasted the Pearl. Several of them hit, many didn't. None were magically charged like the ones they'd been getting smacked with all day. It was a brave stand Laurence was making, but she couldn't help but feel like it was in vain. The senseless tragedy made her blood boil. The distance between Emma's outstretched hands and the Temeraire was increasing at a fast clip. The protection she stretched around it was like a soap bubble being stretched tenuously thin. Then it slipped away and was simply gone. Her hands were still raised, uselessly, toward where the Temeraire was making her last stand. She saw the cannonade that smashed through it, flaying the strong timbers and the elegant masts and sending all her brave sailors into the frothing seas. She memorized the sound of a beautiful ship being blown to pieces, and swore to herself that she would find a way to make them pay for this.


	14. Escape

"The compass is in my sea chest, love, we need it! Now!"

Hook was yelling to be heard over the wind. They had just cleared the mouth of the sheltered harbor which had once held the thriving haven of Tortuga. He'd glanced back just once. The last sight he would have of that beautiful, corrupt, seedy, glorious place was one of flames and destruction. Nothing would be left.

The three enemy ships were still in hot pursuit. Hook was sure that in normal seas, he would have made quick work of this little race. But some dark force was moving against them. The currents and the winds were pushing back on the Jolly Roger, stalling their progress.

He ground his teeth and gripped the helm tighter. Emma had disappeared belowdecks in search of the compass. David was holding on for dear life on the lower deck. The man grew up a shepherd, so Hook couldn't really blame him for being as useless as tits on a merman when it came to sailing. Sparrow, on the other hand, was making himself surprisingly useful. Hook hadn't even needed to give him orders. In some alternate universe, he imagined Sparrow would have been an excellent member of his crew. Not that he'd ever tell him as much, of course. The cheeky bastard.

Emma had climbed back to the upper deck. He could see the exhaustion in her face. Her posture told him volumes about the state she was in, which was not a particularly good one. The battle with the Pearl and her cohort had raged for what felt like hours, and she had been fighting it for all of them. Not to mention the head wound. Her wet hair was plastered against her face, but the rain hadn't quite washed away the caked blood just above her temple. He noted quizzically that she was now wearing the coil of Koulév Nwa wrapped around her torso. He didn't have the luxury of asking her about it just now. They needed to find a safe place to rest and regroup, straightaway. Hence, the compass.

He had kept it for years, not sure when he would really need it. He'd been tempted a few times, but something had always told him to wait. He had paid a heavy price for it, and wanted to be sure. The heavy brass instrument had been enchanted with a one-time only spell which would lead the seeker to safe harbor. Which was something they needed right now in the worst way. He was sure.

"Now what?" asked Emma.

"Open it, love. Where it points, we need merely follow."

He saw how her hands were shaking when she lifted the compass and snapped open the lid. He wished he could take his hands from the wheel long enough to hold her trembling ones, but the task of sailing in these seas under pursuit took all his concentration.

A small flash of light came from within the compass box when it was opened, illuminating Emma's tired, pale face with a faint blue glow. A slender gold needle swung around the dial, held at the center by a small sapphire that gleamed unnaturally bright. It spun lazily back and forth until snapping rigidly to a south southwest heading. He called up to Sparrow, who was trying valiantly to repair their broken topsail up on the mizzenmast, to get the bloody thing fixed already and get his arse back down to the deck. They needed to change directions and quickly. The ships in pursuit were gaining and safe harbor was on another bearing.

"They're getting closer, Killian!" shouted Emma.

"Aye! I believe we are being thwarted in our escape!"

"Ursula."

Hook nodded grimly.

He saw a faint ripple of black out of the corner of his eye. Emma was stroking the Koulev Nwa where it wound snugly between her breasts. Bloody hell- was it...moving? Hook shook his head. Must be the storm and the stress getting to him, but he thought he'd seen it shifting in the stormy light like a living thing.

The wind blasted toward them with a sustained, immense gust. He heard the sails above him actually reverse direction, billowing into a backward shape. They were coming to a full and unnatural stop. Emma lurched forward, grabbing at the helm for balance. He slid an arm around her to help her find her footing, relishing the brief contact. Hook glanced behind them. The ships in pursuit were apparently having no such difficulties with the wind. Of course. Emma followed his gaze. He saw her set her jaw in that determined way of hers that meant trouble for someone. He thought he heard her mutter "calamari" under her breath.

He would've laughed if he weren't certain that something horrific was about to befall them.

The ghostly bow sprit of one of their pursuers came along side them. The sight of the crew aboard was a true shock. They were gaunt, eerily transparent, greenish-blue vestiges of men. Grim-faced, they stood silently at the rail of their vessel. Was Liam amongst them? Hook heard no order, but they all raised their swords and muskets in unison and let loose an unearthly chorus of shouts. The Jolly Roger was about to be boarded, and he could see no mercy for any of them in the dead eyes of the crew. He pulled Emma tighter to him and put his hand to his cutlass.

He felt something slither against his side. Pulling away, he stared at Emma, who was gripping the Koulev Nwa tightly, an expression of cold fury on her face. The rope was most definitely moving, sliding against her body in a slow, almost intimate way. Hook stared at it, mesmerized and totally uncertain of what to do. Then he met her gaze and took a hasty step away, involuntarily. Her beautiful eyes were no longer blue. Her irises shifted subtly from a glossy pitch black to a deep cobalt to aquamarine and back, like the shading on a butterfly's wing. It was as if all the colors he had ever seen in the depths of the seas were swimming inside her, fathoms deep. He stood with his mouth open in shock. She stepped past him to grab the helm of the Jolly Roger.

"Emma...what-"

The ropes began to shift more rapidly. They snaked further along her body, wrapping around her arms and hands like black vines. A subtle blue glow began emanating from them, and from Emma as well. An ebony wave swept down her blond hair from her scalp to the tips, chasing the gold away with a glossy tide of ink. Her clothing, her fingernails, all of it turned a pitch black hue. Hook hadn't the faintest clue what was happening, but his Emma was disappearing right before his eyes. He rushed forward, thinking to grab the rope and peel it off her.

Next thing he knew he was lying flat on his back on the deck, looking up at her. He was thinking there ought to be a sizzling sound accompanying him as he sat up. It had been like grabbing an electric eel. Emma was staring straight ahead, paying him no mind. A small smile was playing at the corners of her mouth. The raw power, the sheer amount of magic flowing through his love had knocked him on his arse.

Where her hands were grasping the wheel, the wood itself darkened and took on the appearance of polished ebony. A pitch black wave of energy flowed out from Emma's hands and washed through every fiber of the ship, transforming the Jolly Roger into an obsidian version of itself, as if it had been dipped in black varnish. He heard the shouts of the ghostly pirates fade abruptly.

Killian ran his fingers over the surface of the deck in wonder. It felt just like the Koulév Nwa, but on a massive scale. The entire vessel seemed to be coated in this mysterious skin. The wood felt soft and slightly oily to the touch, but his hand came away dry. He looked up. Even her sails were a deep bluish black that shifted as he watched. It was like a sheen of oil on top of a puddle, the way the shades rippled through.

It was...beautiful. Deeply disturbing, but beautiful. The wind had disappeared when they had come to a dead halt. Somehow, though, the ship began to move. And how she was moving!

He'd never felt anything like it. Well, except for riding in Emma's car when she "floored it". The sudden acceleration had been quite shocking the first time he experienced it. To feel the same sensation on board his ship though, and especially with not a breath of wind around them, was the strangest thing he'd encountered in a day that had not been exactly lacking in surprises.

They were cutting through the waves at a faster clip than he had ever made with the Jolly Roger before. Looking back, the three ships were disappearing into mere dots on the horizon behind them. The sails seemed to figure into their navigation approximately not at all - whatever propulsion was taking them along, it had nothing to do with mother nature, and everything to do with the suddenly unfamiliar woman standing at the helm.

Hook stepped cautiously to her side.

"Emma?"

She made no answer, instead drawing the compass from her pocket and flipping it open again. Those obsidian eyes flickered to the enchanted needle and then back to the horizon. With one hand, she easily turned the helm to adjust their course, as though it took no more effort than stirring coffee with a spoon. Her glossy black hair streamed behind her as their speed, impossibly, increased. There was hardly any wake behind the ship. The water itself seemed to be pulling them along.

"What in the bloody hell has happened to your ship, ma-"

Sparrow had just dropped down from the rigging, landing next to Hook. He was staring at Emma with his mouth hanging open. Turning slowly to Hook, he started to form a question,

"Wha-" He shook his head. "How-"

He was spinning this way and that, dramatically as usual, eyes widening comically in astonishment over the unrecognizable Jolly Roger. He couldn't seem to think of what to ask, and Hook wouldn't have had any answers for the man anyway. He shrugged slightly to the pirate, conveying as much.

Sparrow threw his hands up in the air. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a flask. Taking a long pull, and then another for good measure, he passed it silently to Hook, who took it without a moment's hesitation. Rum was definitely called for.

Feeling a tap on his arm, he turned to see David holding his hand out toward the flask, his eyes locked on his daughter. Hook passed him the rum and watched as he took several swallows.

The three of them stood there for some time, passing the rum between them. The rain was lessening and Killian could make out a warm light on the horizon. Were they outrunning Ursula's storm? If he weren't terrified for Emma, he'd be drinking this rum in celebration. As it was, he tried to drown his apprehension in the warm comfort of the liquor.

Sunlight broke through the clouds suddenly. Hook closed his eyes and turned his face up to it gratefully. Blue skies above felt like blissful freedom after so much time oppressed by clouds and rain. They'd been sailing for more than an hour at massive speed. Emma hadn't moved even an inch. She held the compass in her left hand and steadied the wheel with her right, preternaturally still.

The three men had settled in uneasily on the edge of the upper deck, legs dangling. Sparrow had gone below and scrounged up another two flasks of rum. They were drinking in companionable silence, occasionally glancing up at the apparition that was and was not Emma Swan.

"So the compass will guide us to a safe place, Hook?" asked David quietly.

"Aye, 'tis enchanted to guide the seeker to a safe harbor. It will only work once, and then the enchantment will wear off. It seemed like the right moment to make use of it."

"Powerful object that, mate. Where'd you acquire it?" slurred Sparrow. He was quaffing the rum at a very liberal pace.

"Tortuga, many years ago now," replied Hook.

They were silent a moment, heads bowed.

"To Tortuga," said Sparrow, raising his flask.

"Tortuga," replied Hook and David, raising theirs. All three drank to the memory of the destroyed city.

"...and to the Temeraire," added Hook. They drank again.

The ship began to slow perceptibly. They scrambled to their feet, Hook and Sparrow both pulling out their spyglasses. Ahead in the distance, silhouetted by the setting sun, was a small island. This was apparently their safe harbor.

The distance closed rapidly. Hook could see that the waters were becoming very shallow and he began to worry about reefs. How would he convey to Emma the danger they were in? Before he could worry further, the ship slowed substantially and began to weave around the underwater banks, as though threading through a maze.

"Neptune's nutsack," whispered Sparrow.

Hook met his bewildered eyes with his own. "You can say that again, mate."

The island appeared to be smaller than Tortuga by about half, with a small, rugged mountain rising up on the left side. A sheltered crescent bay with a narrow inlet must be their destination. The ship deftly navigated the shoals. Hook would never have attempted to make port in such a place. It was a sailor's nightmare. He hoped they would be able to get back out again.

The setting was stunningly beautiful. Nay...make that paradise. He'd never seen the like of it in all his journeys. The waters of the half moon bay were a tranquil turquoise. The setting sun illuminated the expanse of sandy beach with a rosy golden hue. Gentle waves lapped at the shore. Palm trees swayed softly in the breeze. Hook felt a warmth return to his bones that had been leached out by the storm.

The Jolly Roger glided to a gentle stop in a deep section of the bay, not far from shore. Hook could make out a shallow ledge that dropped off sharply where they were floating. A splash at the stern announced the anchor being weighed behind them.

"Rive asté, motchen lem. Dromi."

It was Emma's voice, but not quite. It had an undercurrent to it, like a chorus of soft voices beneath her own, like a river was rushing in the background.

She went suddenly limp, and fell to the deck. Hook and David rushed forward. Hook reached her first and pulled her head onto his lap. Her beautiful golden hair was returning as the inky blackness retreated. He expected her to feel cold, but his fingers on her cheek revealed soft, warm skin, practically buzzing with vitality and life.

"Emma, love, are you all right?"

Beautiful blue eyes flickered open. She saw Hook and smiled up at him. He sighed with relief and heard David do the same. She was all right.

"I'm wonderful. That was...amazing. So tired now, though."

"We've found a safe harbor it seems. We could all do with some rest, love. Let's get you to bed."

She nodded her assent. Hook carried her to the cabin and lay her on the bed, gently peeling off her wet clothing. Her head wound seemed to be completely healed. Aside from being very sleepy, she seemed perfectly fine. In fact, better than fine. She was practically glowing with contentment. What in the seven seas had happened to her?

"I'll answer your questions in the morning, Killian. I'm fine, really. Let's just get some sleep," she mumbled.

He had stripped off his damp clothing as well and slid in behind her, pressing himself against her soft, warm skin with a groan. He was hardening against her, but he knew she needed rest. All he wanted was to bury himself inside her, to claim her, make sure she was still his Emma. He took a deep breath, beginning his mental litany of maritime knots to calm himself.

"As you wish, love," he whispered, kissing her shoulder tenderly.

She turned her head and kissed his lips gently, lovingly. Deciding to just be grateful they were alive, he pushed aside his burning curiosity and his desire for her and settled in to sleep. She sighed with pleasure and her breathing slowed and deepened almost immediately. Killian wrapped his arm tightly around her, protectively, before following her into sleep.


	15. Paradise

Killian climbed out on deck into the brilliant sunlight, squinting after a night spent in the darkened cabin. Emma was still deeply asleep in his bed. He was determined to let her rest as long as she wished. If Ursula and Jones would let them have any peace, that is.

"How is she?"

David was leaning against the rail. He held a fishing line cast down to the tranquil blue waters below. Hook could see there was a colorful variety of fish swimming in the clear depths around the ship, among the coral reefs. This place was truly beautiful. He took a deep breath of the salty air.

"Sleeping like the dead," answered Hook. He ran his hand tiredly through his hair. It was too bloody hot for his coat. He took it off and rolled up his sleeves, turning his face up to the warming sunshine. God, that felt good. He'd been feeling damp through and through since they'd left Storybrooke.

"Did your estimable lady friend happen to explain how the Jolly Roger sailed hundreds of leagues from Tortuga in the blink of an eye, looking like it'd been dipped in bootblack? Not that I'm ungrateful, mind." Sparrow's voice carried down from the rigging above. Hook looked up to see a hammock swinging gently in the tropical breeze, a rather grubby hand dangling over the side.

"Not yet, mate," called Hook. He added, almost to himself, "I suppose it had something to do with the Koulév Nwa, but damned if I know what it was."

"Did you say Koulév bleeding Nwa?"

Sparrow's face had popped up over the hammock's edge and was peering down at them, wide-eyed. He must've leaned over a fraction too far because in the next heartbeat, Sparrow was dangling upside down six or so feet above the deck, spinning in a blur of dreadlocks, beads and profanity. He'd apparently had the presence of mind to tie himself into the hammock last night, whether to guard against weather or rum Hook couldn't say. It had at least kept him from crashing headlong onto the Jolly Roger's deck, but now he was dangling helplessly like a fish on a line.

Neptune help him, but in that moment, tired and worried as he was, it struck Hook as the funniest thing he'd ever seen. Shaking with silent laughter and doubled over, he heard David laughing uncontrollably as well and it just set him off further.

"When you two gobs are bloody well finished, eh?" sputtered Sparrow, grabbing at the air wildly. The pirate's offended expression combined with Hook catching David's eye - he was holding onto the railing gasping for breath - sent him into another attack of laughter.

"Hammocks. Way more dangerous than you'd think."

Emma's wry voice behind him caught him off guard. He turned toward her holding his side, wiping tears from his eyes.

"Love. How are you feeling?" Trying to catch his breath, he approached her and gently cupped her face with his hand. "Still tired?"

He could see that she was. The sun caught her hair and made it shine gold, but her face was pale and drawn.

"Yeah. Feeling much better though. You gonna cut him down at some point?" she asked, gesturing with a smirk toward Sparrow.

"Perhaps you would do me the honor, Miss Swan, since your paramour can't be bothered to help out a member of his own crew," called the dangling pirate peevishly.

She pulled the knife from Killian's belt, giving him a flirtatious look as she did so. His breath caught and he smiled back. There was no trace of the terrifying version of Emma Swan he saw yesterday. It was just his Emma, tough and clever and sexy as always.

She walked over to Sparrow. "If I cut you down, you'll owe me one."

"Name your price, love."

Hook scowled at him. The diminutive did not go unnoticed, but he thought he'd let it go this once.

"I want you to tell me everything you know about the Koulév Nwa."

Sparrow's eyebrows rose, which at the moment was toward the deck. "I pledge to do my utmost to oblige my beautiful rescuer, though I'd reckon you're like to know more than the rest of us after yesterday's little adventure."

Emma nodded and reached up to cut the rope. Sparrow landed in a heap of untidy clothing and sat up, rubbing his head and casting angry glances upward at the offending hammock.

"First, some breakfast?" David was still chuckling as he laid out his catch on the deck. He'd hauled the brazier up from the galley along with a wooden table and some stools. "I thought we'd eat out on the deck this morning. Emma, think you could light the coals for us?"

"Sure."

She leaned toward the brazier with a look of concentration, holding her hand palm up before her. Nothing whatsoever happened.

"Huh. I guess the stakes have to be higher than breakfast in order for me to use magic."

Hook took her hand and pulled it to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on the palm. "You're exhausted, Emma. After the battle yesterday, it's perfectly understandable."

"That was quite the magic you pulled off, by the way," said David as he cleaned the fish, shaking his head. Hook pulled out a flint from his pocket and leaned in to light the brazier the old fashioned way.

"Yeah, I know," said Emma, rubbing her temples. "I'm still trying to wrap my head around it."

"What happened, exactly?"

"When I went below decks to get the compass, I saw the Koulév Nwa-"

"Sorry, Koulév what?" asked David.

"It's a rope of sorts - an enchanted one. I acquired it in trade many years ago," answered Hook.

"Anyway, I saw it and it seemed to...want me to pick it up. I can't really explain it. I just felt like I needed to wrap it around me. When the ships caught up to us, I could feel what it was feeling, like it was alive. It was feeling pretty pissed off and...protective, I guess would be the word for it."

Sparrow turned toward Hook - "How in the seven seas do you manage to get your hands - er, hand - on all these delectable goodies, mate?" He sounded impressed despite himself.

"Pirate," shrugged Hook. Sparrow smiled and pulled out his flask.

"Indeed," he said, raising it to Hook in salute before taking a swig.

Emma frowned at him. "Before you get drunk, mind telling me what you know about it? It sounded like you were familiar with it earlier."

"Only what one picks up in taverns of the disreputable sort, lass."

"As if you visit any other kind," muttered Emma, giving him a sidelong glance.

He winked at her and reached for the coffee urn. He paused to pour a mug and added liberally to it from his flask before continuing.

"Legend has it that it's woven from a substance both ancient and rare which can only be found in the remotest fathoms of the sea. Some say it's a plant, some say it's the skin of a magical creature, some claim it's the very spirit of the sea incarnate. But all of the stories agree on two points: one - it is stronger than any material known to man and can never be broken as long as it stays in the sea. Two - that it is extremely valuable," said Sparrow, who was holding up two be-ringed fingers. "Must be bound by a hell of an enchantment to keep it alive above the waves, I'd reckon. Never heard of it being used anything like what you did to the Jolly Roger yesterday o' course. But then you are a rather singular woman, Miss Swan."

He drank to her health, ignoring Hook's glare, and leaned back precariously in his seat. "Haven't the faintest idea why you were speaking in pidgin though."

"Huh?" she asked. "What'd I say?"

"You said something in another language before you collapsed on the deck," explained Killian.

Sparrow smiled and took a swig of coffee. "Aye, I happen to know a few words of the old language meself. 'Twere something along the lines of, 'we are here, my love - I rest' and then you dropped like an anchor. Savvy?"

"I don't remember that part, exactly." Emma was frowning down at her plate.

"What do you remember, love?" asked Killian, pouring her a coffee and handing it to her. He wished it was a hot chocolate, with liberal cinnamon, but this would have to do.

"I remember feeling...I don't know how to describe it. It was wonderful. I felt like I was connected to something very old and very powerful. It was as if I was part of the ocean, I could feel all of it stretching out around me," she sounded awed. She shook her head, as if to clear it. "Whatever it was, it wanted to protect me. I could sense it."

"How did you move the ship so quickly? And without wind?"

"I, um, I asked the water to help me."

"Come again?"

"I knew that whatever I needed, the sea would give it to me. The water pulled us along. I just had to...ask."

The three men were staring at Emma, bewildered.

"What? Okay, I know it sounds crazy, but we've dealt with crazy before. At least this is good crazy. Or at least, I think it is."

Hook wasn't entirely convinced of that, but merely shrugged and dug into the food. They finished breakfast while discussing next steps. They were safe for the moment, but that never lasted long. Additionally, the food and water stores aboard the Jolly Roger were nearly empty. Killian hadn't anticipated a lengthy voyage when they set off to meet the Black Pearl that day. A trip ashore seemed warranted, to see if they could find some fresh water and perhaps some food if they were lucky.

They resolved that David would stay aboard (Sparrow not being deemed trustworthy enough to be left alone with the Jolly Roger) and signal with the ship's bell if anyone approached the island. Hook, Emma, and Sparrow launched the small dinghy and made their way toward shore.

Hook made Sparrow do the rowing.

"Why doesn't Miss Swan do this bit? She sailed an entire ship half the ocean yesterday. This should be a trifle."

"Sorry, Sparrow - I left the Koulév Nwa aboard the Jolly Roger. Looks like you'll have to carry your weight."

With much grumbling on his part, they made their way toward the shore through the gentle surf and pulled up onto the beach. The sand was so soft it was like powdered sugar. Emma kicked off her shoes and socks and sank her feet into it with a sigh. Hook elbowed Sparrow and pointed down the beach.

"Why don't you try walking that way, mate? We'll meet you back here in three hours time."

Sparrow didn't miss the tone in Hook's voice. It was not a request. He smiled conspiratorially and set off down the beach with a jaunty wink. "If you're sure that's enough time, Cap'n" he tossed over his shoulder.

Suddenly Emma's arms were around his midsection. She was standing behind him, pressing into his back. He turned in her embrace and leaned in for a lingering kiss.

She pulled away. "Let's go find someplace more private. And hopefully a place with fresh water. I could use a bath."

The thought of diving into a pool of water with a naked Emma Swan put an extra spring in his step. "Let's go, love."

They headed inland. The shade of the palm canopy was a welcome relief from the heat of the sun. Before long, the land began to rise sharply and they had to concentrate on hiking.

"We should try to find a way to call Regina again. I'm sure the family is going crazy."

"Aye. I suppose I should remedy the lack of mirrors on board for future endeavors."

"Killian-" there was a note of worry in her voice.

"Are you all right, love?"

"About yesterday - there's more to it than I said before."

He stopped and turned to face her. He had had a feeling that she was holding back.

"You can tell me, darling."

"I wasn't in control, at all. It felt like I was being possessed by something or someone. It was so much power, Killian. I thought I was going to burn to a cinder."

She sounded frightened. Very un-Emma.

"Shhh, love. Come here." He pulled her to him and rocked her side to side gently.

"The scariest thing though? I sort of liked it."

He stroked her hair. "You don't have to touch that thing ever again, Emma. I'll toss it over the side of the ship if you like."

"No!" the vehemence of her answer startled them both. "I mean, we may need it again. Look at what it did for us yesterday. It saved our lives."

"Aye, but at what cost love? When it took you, you...changed. You weren't my Emma any more. Your hair was black, your eyes were...indescribable. Your voice, your words. All of it was twisted," he added softly -"and I hated every moment of it."

She kissed him tenderly and wound her arms around his neck.

"Come on, I have a feeling there's water around here somewhere."

They set off again, climbing higher and higher. Killian could make out a faint roaring which was gradually getting louder. A waterfall perhaps?

Rounding a bend, the trees suddenly parted in front of them and the rocky lava dropped away at their feet. A small crystal clear pool with a sandy bottom lay spread out beneath them, twenty feet down. A waterfall dropped from the peak above them through several terrace pools before sluicing into the water. Hook's mouth was parched. He flashed Emma a grin and grabbed her hand. They made their way down the side of the small cliff and onto the small sandy beach.

"Straight out of The Blue Lagoon," said Emma as she stripped off her clothing. "Unbelievable."

"Out of what?" Hook was following suit. He was about to go skinny dipping with her in a lush tropical pool and he found he couldn't get undressed fast enough. She was down to her panties and bra now and he saw her hesitate. "There's no one about, love. Off they go."

She reached up to unhook her bra with a fluid motion and then slid her panties down and stepped out of them. She was standing naked in the dappled sunlight looking like a bloody goddess, and Hook felt himself stiffen immediately. Before he could make a move toward her, she flashed him a wicked grin.

"Last one in the water's a rotten egg!" she shouted as she ran full speed at the water and dove in.

Killian laughed aloud and stripped off the last of his clothing. He tossed his hook onto the pile of clothing and ran after her, diving in with a loud whoop.

They swam about for some time, reveling in feeling clean for the first time in days. Splashing each other playfully in the warm water, Hook felt relaxed in a way he hadn't in what felt like forever. He watched the woman he loved floating peacefully, breasts skimming above the water, and his desire rose fast and urgent. Emma saw him become serious suddenly and she stood in the water, returning his gaze with heat. He moved toward her and suddenly she was wrapped around him and kissing him with so much passion his head spun. They were close to the waterfall. He pushed them toward a large sun-warmed boulder next to the spilling water and leaned her up against it. It was at just the right height for her to arch her back over it and tilt her hips toward him. The sparkling waters lapped gently at their hips.

"Yesssss..."

She moaned as he took a nipple between his teeth and swirled his tongue over it. He shifted his attention to the other and then pulled back to admire his handiwork. Her perfect breasts were thrust toward him by the bend in the rock behind her, the nipples standing at firm, rosy peaks. Her eyes clouded with passion, Emma parted her legs wider. It was an invitation he could never refuse. He kissed his way down her navel and shifted her up to lift her apex out of the water. He knelt in the silky sand and licked lightly, playful, at her nub. She moaned louder and splayed her hands against the rock for balance. He continued teasing her with tickling, brief contacts of his tongue. One of her hands wound into his hair, gripping him tightly. Her hips were lifting off the boulder, trying to find firmer contact with his mouth. He smiled against her before pinning her hips down with his arms and swirling his tongue against her clit, moving against it with firm pressure in the rhythm he knew she liked.

"Aaah-aaaah-Killian-Killian!"

She bucked against him. He could feel her spurting against his chin, her liquid heat gushing out of her with the force of her shattering orgasm. He kept swirling his tongue over her wickedly, knowing the sensation was about to drive her crazy. Sure enough, she tried to pull away.

"No more, no more...too sensitive..."

He ignored her and held her still again, continuing his ministrations against her swollen clit and sliding two fingers into her folds. Her core was clamping spasmodically around him. He slid his fingers back out slowly, relishing the feeling of her slick heat. "I love that I can make you come like that, woman. So damned sexy. I want to feel that again," he growled against her thigh.

"Mmmmmm...oh!"

He had slid his pinky toward her arse, testing it delicately. With gentle pressure, he pressed it slowly inward. She had tensed at first but then relaxed against his hand and run her fingers through his hair with a sigh. He captured her clit again with his tongue while two fingers continued to work her pussy and the other created delicious friction in her tight little arse.

"Ohhhhhhhhh, god Killian. Keep...yeah, yeah...like that," she had her head tilted back, her golden hair spilling around her, drying in the tropical sun. "I'm going...I'm going to...oh!"

She spread her legs wider, opening herself to him as she came even more violently this time. He kept his fingers buried deep and pressed his mouth to her tightly, letting her ride it out. She was so wet that rivulets of her desire were running down his wrist. Her breathing was erratic. He withdrew from her and stood, kissing his way up her body.

He placed himself at her entrance. He needed to be inside her, to bury his cock in her as far as he could go. She brought her hands to his waist and pulled him toward her, wrapping her legs around his hips as she did so. He slid all the way into her hot sheath, feeling his balls brush the warm rock beneath them. This would be over faster than he wanted, but he was beyond control now. He braced against the boulder and began moving in long, slow strokes. Her breasts began to move sinfully with his thrusts.

"Come inside me, Killian. Let go, baby..." she whispered.

Slamming into her roughly, his pace quickened. She spread her legs upward to deepen the thrusts and he felt his climax sweeping over him. "Emma!" he shouted, as he shuddered inside her, filling her with his seed. He collapsed against her, breathing erratically. She wrapped her legs and arms tightly around him and they lay there for some time in silence, breathing in sync.

They took their time cleaning up and filling the water bottles they'd brought with them. When it was time to head back to the beach, they dressed and Killian looked back at the pool one last time as they walked away. He had a feeling this place was the setting for what would be one of his happiest memories, and he would hang on to every detail until oblivion took him.


	16. Paradise Lost

Killian and Emma returned to the beach to find it empty.

"Sparrow must still be scrounging for food. Hopefully he's staying out of trouble," murmured Emma. She was feeling very sleepy and satisfied. Killian had a way of making her tingle from her scalp to her toes. She sank to the sand with a sigh and lay back in the shade of a palm tree.

"You look like you could do with a nap, love."

She opened one heavy eyelid to peer up at him. His handsome face was tanned and relaxed, albeit a bit scruffier than usual. He also looked distinctly pleased with himself.

She snorted. "Yeah, I guess you might have something to do with that."

He settled down beside her and lay back with a yawn. She shifted over to lay her head against his chest and he draped his arm around her. She drifted off to the susurration of the gentle waves and the breeze rustling the palm fronds, comforted by the steady rise and fall of Killian's chest beneath her cheek.

She had no idea how long she'd been asleep. Clawing her way to consciousness was difficult, like she was trying to swim up through an ocean of gelatin. Something was very wrong. Her eyelids were leaden. It took all of her willpower to force them open. The palm fronds were swaying in the dappled sunlight overhead. She was alone.

"Killian," she whispered, alarmed. Something had happened to him, she was sure of it. Her instincts were blaring the alarm. She forced herself fully awake and sat up with a tremendous effort.

Her thoughts were fuzzy and disconnected. The only thing that was clear was the sensation that something wasn't right and that she needed to snap out of this daze. She stood unsteadily and looked down the beach. There were two figures standing in the shallow surf a good ways down the sand from where Emma stood. One was definitely Killian. She breathed a sigh of relief. But who was the other?

The other figure was that of a buxom, dark-haired woman. If Emma had to guess from her clothing, she was a pirate. She shaded her eyes and swept her gaze out over the water - no ships, at least not in the bay. Even from this distance, Emma could tell that the woman was beautiful. Where did she come from? Emma's gut was telling her to snap out of her fog and get over there, pronto. Whoever this woman was, she was trouble.

Emma shouted "Killian!" as she started toward them. Her throat was dry and all that came out was a weak rasp. Her legs felt stiff and uncooperative and she stumbled as she tried to run.

The woman was sidling up to Killian, rubbing herself against him and reaching up to caress his face. Emma growled under her breath. She was going to have to straighten this chick out, whoever she was. Wait - was Killian responding? He was leaning into her as if he was going to kiss her! What the hell was going on? Was there magic at work here? Emma felt like she was losing her mind.

Emma was twenty paces out when she came to a screeching halt. Killian hadn't even acknowledged her presence. He was staring into the woman's eyes as he touched his lips to hers. His arms went around her waist. Emma felt her heart constrict painfully.

"Killian?" she whispered. She felt like she couldn't breathe. Every insecure feeling or doubt she'd ever had about men in general and this man in particular - fears that Killian had fought so hard to overcome - swept over her in a tidal wave. This had to be a nightmare. She must still be asleep underneath the palm trees. She closed her eyes to stifle the tears that threatened to fall, and to block out the image of Killian kissing someone who wasn't her.

She took a deep breath and opened them just in time to see Killian jerk away from the woman as if he'd been burned. He fell to his knees in the surf, choking. His skin was turning a mottled blue color as Emma watched in horror. She tried to run to him, but found she was frozen where she stood, unable to do anything but watch him struggle.

"Milah-" he gasped. Did he say...Milah? Emma felt dizzy with shock and pain. Was he calling out for his dead ex-girlfriend? His hands were stretching up to the woman, pleading to her. It was as if Emma didn't exist. Her guts twisted.

The woman's face was no longer so lovely. She was looking down at him with a mocking expression in her cruel eyes. She raised a booted foot to his shoulder and pushed him over into the water before turning to face Emma.

Seeing her stricken expression, the woman began to laugh. It started as a high, melodious peal but it began to deepen and hoarsen the longer it went on. The slender figure began to morph before her eyes, spilling outward in great bulges as the illusion of pretty Milah was stripped away. What stood in her place was the grey-skinned monstrosity of Ursula the Sea Witch, tentacles thrashing triumphantly. She cackled viciously.

Tears of frustration and fury were running down Emma's face. She could do nothing but clench her hands in repressed anger. Whatever binding spell Ursula was using on her was strong. Killian was now writhing in the water in evident pain.

"Let him go!" she yelled at the malevolent figure. She hardly recognized her own voice, it was so choked with emotion.

"Calm yourself, my dear. You and I need to have a little chat," she purred. "It took me ages to track you down after your impressive escape yesterday. My informants took forever to find you. How did you manage it, by the way?"

"What have you done to Hook?" demanded Emma, ignoring the question.

"Nothing that can't be undone. _If_ you decide to be cooperative, that is. He can be returned easily to life and health, and it won't cost you much-" she smiled wickedly, "-just your magic."

"Even if I wanted to, I can't just 'give' you my magic like I was handing over my car keys."

Ursula looked puzzled. "Your 'car' keys are of no interest to me. What I require can be transferred, however, by means of this unique vessel." One of her tentacles unfurled to reveal a large conch shell the color of wet cement. She tossed it up the beach to land at Emma's feet with a heavy thunk. She continued, "All you need do is willingly focus your magical energy on it, and the enchantment I placed upon the shell will do the rest."

"And if I refuse?" she ground out through clenched teeth. She wouldn't give this crazy bitch the satisfaction of hearing her beg for anything.

"If you do not make the transfer before the sun sets three days from now, the spell I've placed upon loverboy here will become permanent."

"What does that mean, exactly?"

"Oh, it's really quite clever, if I do say so myself. I've simply extended the Curse of the Black Pearl a bit beyond it's original recipe. A little nudge here, a little shake there," her red lips curving in a grotesque smile. "In the guise of a long-lost love, I was able to cast a special version of the curse upon him that can be sealed only with a kiss. He has taken on all the attributes of death, and will feel the curse's call to Neptune's service any moment now. You will become nothing but a vague memory to him."

Emma made a strangled sound and struggled with all her strength against her invisible bonds.

"Now, now, no need to get upset. His condition won't be permanent until the sun sets on the third day. What I'm asking of you is really quite simple. If you behave like a good girl and give me what I want, I will release the curse on this unfortunate soul and return him to you unharmed. You can live out your days together. Whatever is left of them- your puny human lifespans are so tragically short."

"You'll regret this."

"Dear, I don't respond well to threats. You should remember that from your last trip through one of my whirlpools," hissed Ursula.

"It's not a threat. It's a promise."

"Bold words, considering I hold all the cards, Emma Swan. You'll either do as I say," she paused, stroking Killian's face with one fat tentacle, "or the child you're carrying will never know its father."

With an evil chuckle at Emma's stunned expression, she slithered her tentacles around Killian's lifeless form.

Emma's heart was hammering with fear for Killian's life - it had taken her a moment to register what Ursula said. Child? What the hell was she talking about?

"Didn't you know? Oh dear, I suppose I let the eel out of the bag with that one, didn't I?" Ursula chuckled as she slunk toward the waves, tugging Killian along.

Through the haze of her shock, Emma's fury was surging. Where the hell was her magic? She struggled in vain as Ursula slid rapidly into the surf, dragging the man she loved under the waves with her.

"Oy!"

A shout came from the jungle. Sparrow came rushing down the sand behind Emma as her knees gave out and she fell bonelessly to the sand. He was carrying an armload of coconuts which he dropped with a clatter. He picked up one of them and threw it at the retreating underwater shadow of the sea witch. It plopped uselessly into the waves. Ursula and her captive had retreated in the blink of an eye through the length of the cove. The black shadow dipped beneath the Jolly Roger, and was gone. Emma bowed her head to her knees and tried to regain her composure, drawing several trembling breaths.

After several moments, she felt a tentative pat on her shoulder.

"There, there, love."

Sparrow had sat beside her and was trying, awkwardly, to comfort her.

"She took Killian." Emma's voice sounded hollow to her own ears.

"Aye, that she did. But I'd lay a good amount of gold on you in any fight, lass."

She gave him a watery half-smile, despite herself. Sparrow may be a pain in the ass and an untrustworthy drunken pirate, but sometimes she glimpsed a decent man hiding behind the scoundrel. He stood and reached down a hand to help her up. She took it and sighed shakily as she brushed the sand off her clothes.

"Um, forgive me for prying, Miss Swan. But I couldn't help but overhear the witch mention something about...well..."

Emma almost cracked a smile. The pirate was actually blushing.

"About a baby?"

"Aye."

"She was just messing with my head. Trying to trick me. There's no way I'm-," she was shaking her head. "I get shots regularly, and I'm not due for another- until...until..."

She froze as she did the mental math, then again - and a third time for good measure, hoping for a different outcome and not finding it. She shook her head and held up her hand, counting on her fingers. How many days since they left New York? What date would it be now in the real world?

_Oh. My. God._ She was more than a week overdue for her shot. In all the craziness since they returned to Storybrooke, she'd completely spaced it. She could, technically, be pregnant. But there's no way Ursula could've known that, especially if it had only been days. She snorted, berating herself for buying Ursula's crap even for a minute. "She's just bluffing. Pure manipulation. I feel completely normal."

_But did she, though?_ She furrowed her brow. She'd been exhausted lately, but god knows she had plenty of reason for that. She ran a hand over her breasts. A bit tender, sure, but Killian had worked them over thoroughly just an hour ago. Nope, definitely had to be, as Hook would say, total bollocks.

Sparrow nodded his head, somewhat disbelievingly Emma suspected, and turned to gather up the coconuts. Emma hesitated a moment before picking up the heavy conch shell. It weighed more than it should, as if it were cast out of lead. The flat gray surface gleamed dully in the sunlight. It was unlike any seashell she'd ever seen, but she supposed a special magic-draining one would have to be a little unusual. They climbed aboard the dinghy. Emma stared out to sea, along the direction Killian had disappeared, lost in thought and fighting a tide of misery as Sparrow rowed them in silence back to the Jolly Roger.


	17. Ghosts

Killian became slowly aware of what was happening, and he did not like it one bit. He opened his mouth to scream but found he had no air in his lungs, which was actually the least of his worries. He was being dragged underwater at massive speed, and he was pretty sure he was dead.

Something was wrapped around his torso, binding him like steel as it dragged him through the ocean. He tried not to panic. _Focus, Killian. Maritime knots, a-z... _

The water was dark and cold. The vastness of it stretched around him in all directions, lighter above and pitch black below. It was difficult opening his eyes in the crush of movement so he closed them. It was much easier not seeing the infinite blue depths he was being pulled through, anyway.

He tried to concentrate, but his thoughts were incoherent. What had happened? He had been standing alone on a tropical beach when Milah had risen from the waves and walked toward him. He was certain it was a dream. Wasn't Milah dead? There was an impenetrable foggy confusion surrounding him that he couldn't quite cut through. It had been Milah! She was alive! He had smelled her perfume and seen the faint glints of red in her hair when the sun shone through it. He frowned. Something had struck him as being off, but he couldn't put his finger on what.

He was forgetting something. Someone. It was very important. But as soon as he tried to remember, the thoughts slipped away like silverfish through his fingers. Milah had been standing there smiling at him in invitation. He'd stepped toward her hesitantly. It had been so long! Why didn't he feel happier? He supposed he ought to have - she'd died in his arms and yet here she was, all soft curves and that wicked gleam in her eye that he'd loved so much. But something nagged at him. His heart didn't leap to his chest at the sight of her as it once had. What was it that kept trying to surface in his mind? She had frowned at him slightly as if sensing his thoughts straying. She had made some strange gesture at him. His vision had wavered for a moment and then his doubts had suddenly disappeared. Why was he fighting this? He was being foolish. This was Milah, the companion he'd been missing for so long! He leaned in to kiss her, vaguely aware of someone running toward them but he felt as though he were compelled to ignore whoever it was.

As soon as his lips touched hers, he'd been struck down with agonizing pain. His skin felt like it was constricting as his blood congealed in his veins. Gasping like a fish out of water, he'd reached up to her. Milah would help him. She wouldn't let him suffer like this. But she'd looked at him with cold black eyes and kicked him like a stray dog into the surf. Just before he'd lost consciousness, the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen appeared at the edge of his darkening vision. Her golden hair caught the sun like a halo. He thought she'd called his name, and he felt his heart stir in recognition. He wanted to remember her. He wanted it more than anything, more than he wanted to draw breath. Who was she?

Emma! His eyes snapped open against the rush of the current. Where was Emma? What had happened to her? He struggled frantically against the bonds that held him, realizing now what they were. The sea witch had found them.

After what felt like an eternity swimming through the darkening ocean, the witch finally slowed and started pulling him toward the surface. The pressure lightened and then gave way as they broke above the waves. The weather was stormy, wherever they were. It was beyond bizarre not to breathe. Killian felt curiously numb. Was this what it felt like to be cursed? To have all sensation, all emotion stripped away?

"Another one, witch?" came a familiar gravelly voice.

"Careful, Captain Jones." The threat in Ursula's voice was unmistakable.

"Aye, of course, ma'am," came the response, dripping with sarcasm. "We're honored by your personal delivery. This one must be something special. Boys! Haul 'im up!"

A rope was tossed down from the side of the heaving ship. Killian knew even in the dark that it was the Black Pearl, and that Davey Jones awaited him on deck. Tentacles swiftly secured the rope under his arms.

He could just make out her horrible face in the dark water next to him. "Be good, dear boy, and do as the Captain tells you. You'll find out soon enough if Emma Swan loves you enough to save you." With a final laugh and a swirl of her many-suckered appendages, she was gone.

The rope tightened as it pulled him from the cold embrace of the sea. Rough hands pulled him over the railing and he landed on the deck gracelessly in a sopping puddle. Dead men leaned over him, jostling and joking about fresh meat. Were it not for their ghostly, tattered appearance, they could've been any sailors he'd met on the high seas. He realized he likely had met some of them, actually. Liam! Maybe Liam was here. He could feel the clammy embrace of death creeping along his limbs and dulling his wits, but the thought of seeing his brother sent a surge of warmth through him. He tried to keep his thoughts on Liam, and on Emma, to save his humanity as long as possible. He didn't know what Ursula had meant by Emma coming to save him, but he knew for a fact that he was now undoubtedly in Neptune's service and he needed to keep his wits about him. His cursed soul was growing thin as it had for all the men aboard, and it was only a matter of time before all that had meant aught to him in life disappeared from him forever.

"Captain Hook!" boomed Davey Jones' voice. "Well this is a nice surprise, indeed."

"I'm afraid the pleasure is all yours, Captain Jones."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," he rasped, making his slow way across the deck to where Killian was trying to stand up. His limbs were not obeying him very well. "In fact, I am absolutely delighted to have you aboard. That hag has actually done me a great favor, for once. You see, you and your lady friend have made my life rather difficult of late. I look forward to balancing the scales, mate."

"I'm not your mate, you warthog-faced buffoon."

The blow struck him hard and fast across the cheek, but he barely felt it.

"Tie him to the mast. We'll let his hunger and thirst burn through him for a few days. That ought to gentle you down a piece," hissed Jones.

The crew grabbed him and before long he was tied securely to the mast, the rain ensuring he stayed soaked through. The night was just beginning, but he could feel his thirst begin to build. No matter how long he held his mouth open to the skies, the rain couldn't slake it. The curse was taking hold.

"Killian?"

He'd been tied to the mast for several hours when a quiet voice disturbed his thoughts.

"Liam?" he asked, hardly daring to hope.

"Aye."

A gaunt, skeletal version of his brother appeared at his side. His eyes were sad, but he smiled slightly and reached out to grip Hook's arm for a brief moment. Killian was wondering how much his brother could still feel in the midst of this horrid curse. Was he still his brother?

"Brother - it is so good to see you, Liam. I thought I never would again."

"Nor I. I am sorry to see you have been snared by this wretched curse. Though truth be told, I'm surprised you are only lately come to death. My own was centuries ago, they tell me. I searched for you upon my resurrection, but could not find you aboard any of the ships till now. They told me that this Captain Hook of the Jolly Roger was quite a formidable pirate." He shook his head, disbelievingly. "I hadn't a clue it was my straight arrow of a little brother until they dropped you on deck just now. What happened to you after my death, Killian? How came you to be a pirate?"

"'Tis a long story, brother."

"I've nowhere else to be," said Liam, softly. He settled down in front of Hook on the deck and waited patiently.

"Like most good stories, it involves a beautiful woman..."

It had taken Killian more than an hour to fill Liam in on his misadventures. He'd expected him to be far more judgmental when it came to the pirating aspect, but Liam merely nodded in understanding when he described his change in profession after Liam's death.

"This Emma...she sounds like a remarkable woman."

"Indeed she is, mate. I don't deserve her in the slightest, but for some reason or other, she loves me," said Killian, not without a touch of pride in his voice.

"You say the last she saw of you, you were kissing your former lover and ignoring her?"

"Well, not intentionally! Ursula bewitched me. I hadn't a clue what was happening," he said defensively.

Liam held up his hands. "Aye, I understand that, brother. But will she?"

Killian frowned. He couldn't help but wonder if Emma had seen through to what was really happening with Ursula, or if she was tormenting herself with thoughts of him and Milah. No doubt that was part of Ursula's plan. Treacherous bitch. Emma would see through it, he had faith in her. "I think so. She's a clever one, and she's come to trust me, which was far easier said than done, believe me. We've been through a lot together. She knows how I feel. I gave up my bloody ship to be with her, after all."

"Bloody unbelievable. My brother is an infamous pirate, has one hand fewer than when last I saw him, and he's head over arse in love. And with a sorceress, no less."

"Funny where life takes us, mate."

"Aye. Do you suppose she'll come for you, as Ursula said? I saw firsthand how powerful she can be in a fight, but we are many ships strong and gaining crew by the day. Not to mention Ursula herself."

"Emma Swan hasn't found an enemy yet she couldn't vanquish. She'll find a way. She always does."

"I'd say you were a lucky man, Killian, if you weren't currently a corpse tied to the mast of an unholy ship, being forced to do Neptune's bidding from beyond the grave."

"I'd still say I'm a lucky man, Liam."

"Like I said, head over arse."

They shared a grin. He could see the old Liam inside the shell he had become. He swore he would find a way to release him from this hell he was trapped in. Of course, he had to get out of it himself first.


	18. Yemaja

Emma stared out over the horizon, trying to imagine where Killian was now. Was he still underwater, with Ursula? Was she holding him in some dark cave? Or was he aboard one of Davey Jones' ships, being forced to pillage and plunder against his will? None of the options were good.

"Here. It's not cocoa but it'll warm you up."

"Thanks, David." Emma accepted the steaming mug of tea gratefully. She was shivering despite the warm night air.

"Wherever Killian is, I'm sure he's staring up at the same stars and worrying about you, kiddo."

"I hope you're right," she responded softly, a note of doubt in her voice. "How are we going to save him? I don't even know where to begin."

"Maybe we need more firepower, like Sparrow suggested."

"Oh, we're taking his advice now?" she asked, arching a brow.

"In normal circumstances, I'd listen to whatever he had to say and then do the exact opposite. But I think he might be right about this, Emma."

"I know. I just don't like it."

"Me either. It was one of the scariest things I've ever seen, when you became...whatever it was, with the Koulév Nwa. But it was also incredible what you were able to do with it."

Emma nodded, scowling. "It's so powerful, I'm not in control of it. It's more the other way around."

"Like you said, it seems to want to protect you. That's good, right? And to be honest, I really, really want to get home to your mother and the baby. This is the only plan I can come up with."

She squeezed his hand. Poor David. She missed Henry deeply, but at least he was safe with Regina. Mary Margaret was home alone with a new baby, wondering if her husband was alive. David was right, they had to take the fight to Ursula and get back to Storybrooke, and Emma was not nearly strong enough on her own.

"Let's get started, then." Her voice was steely with determination. She was going to get Killian back. Once he was safe, then they would deal with this Milah thing. She'd been struggling with the same feelings of betrayal and abandonment that overwhelmed her when Neal set her up. Emma had avoided falling for anyone since, to protect herself, until Killian finally broke through and gained her trust. She knew, logically, that he had been enchanted back on the beach. But that didn't change what happened. She was sitting here alone, possibly pregnant, with the image of him kissing Milah burned into her retinas. For a few minutes, she felt like the same miserable, abandoned girl sitting alone in a jail cell. The parallels were just too strong to shrug off easily. But this time, she was stronger, and she wasn't going to give up without a fight. And she had her family with her now.

"For all the fantastical claims about this sodding rope, I can't see anything that bloody special about it."

Sparrow was holding the coil of black Koulév Nwa delicately, as if it were a serpent about to strike. Emma took it from him, feeling it hum in her hands immediately.

"You can't feel that?" she asked wonderingly.

"Feel what?"

She didn't answer, instead sliding the cord through her fingers. She needed to understand this power somehow. What was it?

Sparrow jumped back when the coil wound itself slowly around her arm and snaked toward her chest. Emma felt it pulling her gently to the side of the ship. She gave in and let it direct her. Leaning against the rail, her arm moved forward and then pointed straight down to the water. There was a constant pressure pulling her toward the seas below the Jolly Roger. She got the feeling she was supposed to go there.

Hesitating only a moment, she started unzipping her boots.

"Miss Swan, it appears you are contemplating a moonlight swim. Is that wise?"

"He's right, Emma. We don't know what this thing wants." David looked worried.

"It's not going to hurt me. And I need to find out more if I'm going to use this to save Killian."

She climbed up on the railing. "Be right back," she said over her shoulder, hoping it was true, and dove into the dark waters before she could second-guess herself.

As soon as she struck the water, there was a flash of blinding blue light. When she opened her eyes, she was standing on the soft sandy floor of a huge underwater cave, though cave was hardly the word for it. It was a perfect dome. The smooth rock walls glowed with a soft white light. The water was warm and perfectly clear. She panicked for a moment when she let go of the breath she was holding, sure she would drown. But when she inhaled, nothing happened. She took a few breaths, uncertainly. Walking forward, she dug her toes into the soft sand. She waved her hands in front of her and verified that she was, in fact, underwater, but she was breathing normally. So weird.

A figure materialized through the stone wall at the far end of the dome and began walking toward her. Emma steeled herself and walked forward to meet it. Or her, she should say.

The woman was copper-skinned and ethereally beautiful. Long dark tresses flowed silkily behind her in the still water. She was completely naked except for an ebony serpent hanging around her neck, its head nestled between her breasts, and a collection of gold bracelets and rings on her hands and feet. Her eyes were a shifting pantheon of blues ranging from aquamarine to violet to cobalt, as if they contained all the shades of the sea. Killian had told her that her own eyes had done that when she was in the grip of the Koulév Nwa.

Emma tried to form a question, but was unsure if she could speak in the water. "Who are you?" she asked, the words ringing out clearly in the cavern.

The woman smiled and approached Emma with a kindly expression. She moved with such a sultry grace, Emma's mouth went dry. She didn't swing that way, but damn. The woman was like sex incarnate.

When she spoke, her soft voice spoke with the low timbre of ocean currents and infinite depths. A shiver ran down Emma's spine.

_Centuries I have slept _

_forgotten by all other beings -_

_even the immortal ones _

_have lost my name _

_through disuse and neglect._

_With none to worship me_

_my influence waned_

_and I slumbered._

_Your kind know me by many names_

_Yemaja_

_Mami Wata_

_Janaína_

_Sedna_

_Ved Ava_

_Thalassa_

_Amathaunta_

_many many names_

_all peoples of all realms_

_call me their own_

_or did once_

_but long have I been abandoned._

_Petty kings and witches war_

_to control my kingdom._

_Creatures that once worshipped me_

_have become thieves_

_stealing away my servants..._

She stroked the skin of the black snake around her neck as she stepped closer to Emma. She reached out one elegant hand to touch the Koulév Nwa, which came alive at her touch. Emma stood frozen, as the rope transformed into a slender black serpent, a mirror image of the one around the woman's neck. She knew she should be afraid, but the weight of the creature was somehow pleasant. It moved against her skin in a way that comforted her, and she relaxed. When she reached up a hand to touch it, she felt it speak to her. _Mistresssss..._

She could've sworn she felt affection in the snake's demeanor. This was beyond weird.

_You must name him, little one._

A name. For a magical snake. Okay, then.

"Mickey."

It was the first thing that popped into her head.

_Mickey_

_He will serve you, Emma Swan_

_He is also a connection between us_

_You may harness my power through him_

"Why are you helping me?"

_Centuries lost in slumber _

_came to an end_

_when one of my servants, _

_removed from me long ago,_

_was bound to you as_

_a child was conceived_

_in true love._

_The power of it_

_wakened me _

_and filled me with new life._

Emma inhaled sharply. It was true, then? _Holy crap._

"But still, why do you care?"

_You have awakened the essence of my spirit_

_For eons, creatures of all realms_

_reached out to me _

_beseeched me._

_I am sex and I am fertility._

_I am destruction and I am death._

_I am a duality._

_I have the power to grant life and to take it._

_A child was conceived in true love-_

_A rare thing._

_We share a bond, Emma Swan,_

_and I am reminded of my purpose._

Emma stared in shock, trying to comprehend.

"So you are an ancient and powerful sea goddess, you woke up when Killian and I - okay this is just too weird."

_I see your confusion_

_All will become clear_

_You have a request of me, I believe._

"Yes, I need to find him - the...father. He's been taken by Ursula the Sea Witch."

Yemaja, or whatever she called herself, scowled.

_I am aware of the sea witch _

_and the foulness she wreaks _

_upon the oceans of many worlds._

_She has upset the balance _

_of life and death upon the sea_

_which is my domain alone._

_The king she serves must also suffer_

_for thinking to usurp my waters._

Her voice had deepened to a growl and the dome seemed to darken slightly. The look in her shifting eyes was frankly more than a little frightening. Emma was just grateful that this being was on their side in this fight, whatever her crazy reasons.

"Okay, great. Sounds like we're on the same page. How do we do this thing?"

_You will return to your ship_

_You must learn to harness my power._

_No easy task for a human,_

_though you are strong._

_I need worshipers, believers, _

_to affect the physical world again._

_You must use me _

_and I you _

_to destroy these foes_

_and protect this new life._

She reached out a hand to Emma, touching her belly lightly.

_A strong child. _

_She will wield great power._

A flash of blue light blinded her again, and suddenly she was standing on the deck of the Jolly Roger.

David and Sparrow were leaning over the side, still waiting for her to surface.

"Well, that was interesting."

They whirled around. "Emma!"

Sparrow took a step forward and then reeled back, arms reeling. He ducked behind David faster than she'd ever seen him move.

"IS THAT A BLOODY SNAKE?!"

"Calm down. This is Mickey."

"It's not a pet, love, it's a sea viper - throw it overboard for god's sake!"

Mickey hissed dramatically at Sparrow before settling in between her breasts again. She stroked his soft skin protectively.

"He's more like a friend, actually. I have a lot to tell you guys, but first, let's set sail."

"Where are we going?" asked David, eyeing Mickey warily.

"We're going to crush Ursula, save Killian, end this curse, and get back to Storybrooke."

Emma strode purposefully to the helm. "Weigh anchor, Sparrow!"

He started in surprise before giving her a flowery salute and hopping to obey the order.

"David, better hang on to something."

She grasped the wheel tightly and focused on inviting in the energy she had felt before. Mickey shifted around her neck, scales brushing her skin with little sparks of electricity. Now that she knew what it was, she opened herself to it - just not all the way. She had to learn control. She felt her own energy connecting with Yemaja's. It was like opening a firehose. But this time she fought to tame it.

She looked down to see her hair had darkened to a glossy black. Oh hell no. She glared at it for several heartbeats, forcing it to return to normal. She straightened with a satisfied smirk when her golden locks reappeared. David and Sparrow were watching her warily. Sparrow gave her a jaunty thumbs up. She smiled and shook her head before returning her attention to the ship.

Emma closed her eyes and imagined the Jolly Roger transforming as it had before. A wave of magic cascaded through her body and flowed into the ship's wheel. Once again, the Jolly Roger was coated in a black silky skin. She reached out to the seawater all around them, and asked respectfully if it would help them. The water murmured to her. It seemed happy to do Yemaja's bidding after so long without her presence. She asked if it could take them to Davey Jones' armada. The water whispered yes, and she nearly laughed as the sudden acceleration knocked Sparrow on his ass. David was hanging onto the rigging for dear life.

The Jolly Roger practically flew over the waves. Emma leaned into the salt wind, hair streaming behind her, feeling alive and joyful as she bent the power of the seas to her will. She didn't know it, but her eyes bore the shifting colors of the oceans.


	19. Hidden Heart

The armada was still anchored near Tortuga. They were apparently awaiting further orders from Neptune, now that the town had been sacked.

Killian had finally been untied and left to himself. His energy was depleted from a sleepless night spent tied to the mast, otherwise he would've been pacing back and forth on the deck in frustration. He had to get back to Emma, before it was too late to say goodbye. He could feel the pull of the curse, draining him of emotion. A gnawing hunger in his gut that biscuits could not assuage reminded him that time was running out.

He closed his eyes and imagined the last day he'd been on the deck of the Jolly Roger, with Emma. Before any of this nonsense. He'd looked down from the rigging to see her laying a picnic dinner on the deck, humming to herself as she poured the wine. He found himself thinking something he'd never thought before, in all his years. He wanted to marry this woman. Make her his, for all the world to know. Have a family with her, if she wanted more children. Him, Captain Hook, contemplating matrimony and children?! He'd chuckled to himself as he climbed down to join her, imagining the look on her father's face when he asked for her hand. He opened his eyes with a heavy sigh. Ghostly sailors milled about the deck of the Pearl. It seemed like a cruel joke to remember that day now, but he clung to it.

Liam sat down beside him.

"Moping, are we?"

Killian tried to look less sulky. He sat up straighter.

"Not at all. Just planning my next move, mate."

"Which is?"

Killian slumped and hung his head. "No bloody idea."

Liam grunted in sympathy. "Sorry, Killian. We'll come up with something."

"You've been on the Pearl for a fortnight now. Have you observed any weaknesses? Can Jones' be defeated somehow?" muttered Killian.

Liam looked about, cautiously, before replying.

"There's a rumor. About Jones. Could be nothing."

"Tell me."

"It's said he's not afflicted by the curse, like the rest of us. He lives and breathes, but he cannot be killed like an ordinary man."

"Is he immortal?"

"The rumor is that he cannot be killed, because he keeps his heart locked away in a chest in his cabin."

Killian nodded thoughtfully. "Common practice for those with magic, who wish to guard their hearts."

"Indeed? Have you had much contact with magic in your lifetime?"

"Aye. More than I'd care to. Nothing but trouble," sighed Killian.

"Except your Emma, it seems."

"Ah, she's greater trouble than the rest of it put together," he said with a grin.

Liam rolled his eyes. "Head over arse."

"Aye."

"Then let's find a way to steal Jones' heart. Perhaps that would give us leverage to get you back to your lady love."

"Not a bad plan, Liam." Killian was feeling better now that there was a course of action to follow.

"Then let's get to it, shall we?"

They spent the morning strolling the ship, under the guise of Liam giving Killian instruction on crewing her. There was a sentry at the door to the Captain's quarters at all times, and there were always spying eyes about. It would not be an easy thing to gain entry to the cabin.

They reconnoitered throughout the day, and huddled together over mugs of ale as the sun set below the horizon.

"We're going to need a distraction, Killian."

"Aye, preferably a very large one."


	20. Tsunami

A distraction appeared with the sunrise, in the form of a ship on the horizon.

There was a great commotion aboard the Black Pearl and the other ships anchored near the smoldering remains of Tortuga.

"What is it?" Killian asked Liam as he pulled out his spyglass. He swore under his breath. _Dammit, Emma Swan. What were you thinking?_

"Isn't that your ship, Killian?"

"Aye."

"Moving at quite a clip, isn't she?"

"And looking like she's been dipped in tar. I'd wager Emma is playing about with that magic again. Damn it."

"She wouldn't be foolish enough to take on this entire fleet with one ship, would she?"

"Foolish? No. More like headstrong, stubborn, and mule-headed."

"Sounds familiar."

Hook shot him a sidelong glare. His brother paid him no mind, and continued smiling calmly.

"I do hope she's got a few new tricks up her sleeve, else this could be a short reunion."

"You and me both, mate."

"If nothing else, the Jolly Roger should prove very distracting for the captain and his crew, don't you think?"

Killian nodded, still looking through his spyglass. It was too far away to see anyone aboard, but he kept searching, desperate for sight of her.

"Captain Jones!"

A familiar, hoarse voice came from somewhere in the ocean below them.

"Ursula. Always a pleasure." Davey Jones sauntered to the rail and looked down at the sea witch bobbing in the waves below. "To what do I owe the honor?"

"Emma Swan is approaching aboard the Jolly Roger. You must not fire upon it. A bargain is about to be struck which will allow us to conquer land as well as sea, in any realm."

"A bargain, eh? What have ye offered Emma Swan, and what shall ye reap in return?"

"I've offered her the life of the man you hold prisoner, Captain Hook. He is her true love, after all. She'd do anything to save him."

"No!" shouted Killian. Rough hands grabbed him at Jones' gesture.

"And what will she grant ye for this dubious boon?"

"Why, her power of course," chuckled the witch. "With the might of Emma Swan's magic behind me, our dominion shall be complete."

"In that case, we shall hold our fire and let the wench come to us."

Killian struggled in vain. Liam gave him a shake of the head, seeming to tell him to save his energy. He was right. He couldn't help Emma unless he calmed down and found a way to steal Jones' heart. He couldn't fight Ursula, but at least if he could take down the Captain of the Black Pearl, the fleet would be disordered and Emma could, just maybe, make her escape.

* * *

Emma had been piloting the Jolly Roger all night, but she felt not the slightest bit tired. Magic was still thrumming through her veins. Sparrow and David had both bedded down uneasily. She'd told them to get some rest, but she supposed that wasn't easy to do on a ship speeding through the darkness, captained by a woman who was possessed by a sea goddess. They were also speeding toward a fleet of enemy ships, which wasn't really conducive to relaxation.

As dawn approached, she sensed they were getting close to their quarry. She slowed the ship and called down to the boys to wake up. Sparrow tumbled from his hammock cursing a blue streak "-didn't know she was your wife, mate!" he yelled as he lurched out of whatever dream he was having. Emma rolled her eyes.

"Emma, are you sure about this?" David had dark rings under his eyes. She was certain he hadn't gotten much sleep.

"She has Killian, Dad," she said quietly.

David's eyes softened. "Okay, kiddo. Let's take the fight to them. Do you have a plan?"

"I'm going to call out Ursula, kick her slimy ass, and force her to un-curse the man I love. The rest, I'll figure out as I go along."

"A bit thin on details, but I guess it'll have to do since it looks like we've arrived." David nodded to the array of ships anchored near Tortuga. The scent of smoke still hung in the air. Bits of charred wood floated by with greater frequency as they got closer.

Sparrow stumbled to the upper deck, rubbing his eyes.

"Bloody hell. Really doing this, are we?"

"Yes," said Emma and David in unison.

He held up his hands. "All right, keep you knickers on. Just asking. What's the plan, 'o fearless leader? Just sail up to the Black Pearl and ask nicely if we could please speak to Ursula the Sea Witch?"

"I was thinking of arriving with a little more style, actually."

"Always did appreciate a dramatic entrance meself, love."

"Hold on, guys. It's going to get a bit wild."

Emma waited until they had wrapped their arms through the ropes before she gripped the helm and summoned more of Yemaja's power. The back of the ship began to lift as the ocean rose heavily behind the Jolly Roger. Emma was conjuring a massive wave. She didn't look back, but from Sparrow's cursing she got the impression it was as terrifying as she hoped it looked to Jones and his ships. They would arrive on the edge of a tsunami, and Emma fully intended to hold it to Jones' head like a loaded gun.

As they approached the fleet, the Jolly Roger was surfing down the face of a tremendous wave, which by now was taller than the peak of the island of Tortuga. She couldn't see the men aboard, but she imagined there was more than bit of panic in the ranks as they realized what was heading toward them.

She could just make out the figures on deck when she began to slow. The wave kept its height and shape, but slowed along with the Jolly Roger. Her ploy seemed to be working. They were within firing range of the cannons, but nothing was fired at them. She made straight for the Black Pearl.

They were within shouting distance of the ship when she guided the Jolly Roger to a full stop. The tsunami hovered behind them, curling over the ships at a height ten stories high. It cast a massive shadow over the armada, dwarfing the ships.

"Miss Swan. Before you smash our ships to kindling, you might be interested to know who we have aboard the Black Pearl with us. Your Captain Hook," called Davey Jones.

They had Killian!

"Where is Ursula?"

"I'm here, Emma Swan. No need for the dramatics, impressive though they are."

Ursula conjured a wave of her own, which seemed laughably puny by comparison, to lift her to the height of the Jolly Roger's deck. She was directly between Emma and the Black Pearl.

"As you can see, Killian Jones remains unharmed. Well, other than being undead at the moment. Simply transfer the power to the conch shell and all this will be but an unhappy memory."

Emma sought out Killian's face among the men aboard the Black Pearl. There was a commotion and then she saw him, held between two of Jones' men, and it took everything she had not to cry. She slowly lowered the tsunami behind her, flooding the ships with sunlight as it fell. The sea returned to a placid flatness, the only sign of the wave was a foam dissipating on the surface.

She took a deep breath, and turned to face Ursula.


	21. Battle

Emma needed to focus on Ursula, trying not dwell on Killian's appearance. He didn't look well. His skin was gray and his normally bright blue eyes had lost their mischievous sparkle. He was fading from human existence with each passing moment, and eventually his feelings for her would fade with him. _Just hang in there, baby._

"Emma Swan. Have you accepted the bargain?"

"No. And I never will," said Emma, with quiet resolve.

Ursula raised an eyebrow disbelievingly. "So you'll condemn the man you love, the father of the child you carry, to an eternity of suffering? Interesting. I wouldn't have thought you were capable of such cruelty," she tossed back her head and cackled, "but it seems I've underestimated you, girl."

When Ursula mentioned the baby, Emma couldn't help but look at Kilian. She could read his shock even from this distance. Not exactly how she wanted him to find out he was going to be a father. A fleeting moment of joy briefly lit up his face, before being replaced by a heartbroken expression. They held each other's gazes across the rocking ships. He looked devastated. Great. Just another thing she owed Ursula some retribution for.

She clenched her jaw and turned her attention back to the sea witch. "You have underestimated me. I didn't come alone."

"Oh? The ragged pirate is going to be my undoing, I'm sure," she snickered.

"Oy!" sputtered Sparrow behind her. "This is a very fashionable kit, I'll have you know!" he yelled. "Not as if you're winning any beauty competitions. Hag," he added under his breath.

Emma reached down to offer a hand to Mickey, who was currently winding around her ankles. He slid his way up her neck and settled into place around her shoulders as though he belonged there. Emma felt an immediate surge of power humming through her as his scales came into contact with her skin. She fought down the overwhelming flow of it as she'd done before. She was pleased to see her hair remained its usual golden hue this time, though.

"So you have a pet serpent, what is it to me?"

"Oh, not just any serpent. This is Mickey. He was a gift from a very powerful new friend of mine. One who doesn't like you very much, by the way."

Ursula's eyes narrowed as she studied both the snake and Emma more closely. She looked as though she were deep in thought. Suddenly her eyes popped open wide as if something had occurred to her. "Yemaja?" she practically whispered, voice hoarse. "But no, it can't be! She's been gone for centuries. I tried to call on her power many times, but found only the useless descendants of her serpents roaming the oceans. They make for fine ropes, if you know how to enchant them, however," she smirked.

Mickey hissed. She stroked his head gently.

"Release Hook and the rest from this curse, drop your scheme to take over the realms, and disappear, Ursula. It's the only bargain I'm offering."

Ursula didn't hesitate. "Absolutely not. I don't believe you, and even if I did, Yemaja would be too powerless to harm me. That's the weakness of gods and goddesses you see: someone has to believe in them in order for their power to exist."

Emma simply raised her hands palms outward toward the armada.

Yemaja needed believers, did she? How about an entire army of men, all of them bound magically to the sea?

She opened herself more fully to Yemaja's power and invited her in. Without knowing what words she would use, she began to speak. Her body and consciousness were being shared completely with the goddess. She was no longer simply Emma Swan, the Savior. Now she was Emma-Yemaja, the Goddess of the Sea. And she was pissed off.

Her voice sounded completely foreign to her ears. It carried over the waters clearly, yet it was like hearing a tapestry of feminine voices, weaving melodiously together. There was an undercurrent to it like rushing water. It was soft and sibilant, with that silky accent Yemaja possessed.

"Sailors. Men. Fathers, brothers, sons, lovers. I have borne you upon the seas in your lives and cradled you in your deaths. It was my presence you felt as you contemplated a sunrise over a sea as calm as glass or dreaded the ferocity of a sudden storm. I am the mysteries of the sea. I am the waters of life in the womb. I am the waters that wash your bones clean in death. I am Yemaja. I am Mami Wata. Janaína. Sedna. Ved Ava. Thalassa. Amathaunta. All of you know me, who have sailed the seas."

A soft blue light was beginning to emanate from her hands. It was growing in strength as she spoke. A glance at the ranks of sailors gathered on the decks of the ships showed her she had their full attention. Her power was swelling within her as a kernel of belief took hold in their hearts.

"This witch has upset the natural balance. You have been tricked into servitude long past the duty of your mortal coil. Neptune's hold over you should have ceased at death. Believe in me once more and you will be delivered from this wretched bondage!"

What met her speech was deafening silence.

Ursula's chuckle raised the hairs on the back of Emma's neck.

"You see? The curse has wrung the humanity from them almost entirely! They want nothing but plunder, and pleasures, which they can never obtain. Your words mean nothing, Emma Swan!"

"Perhaps they just need a reminder," replied Emma-Yemaja. She could feel the belief, the worship for the goddess, welling from the crowd of ghosts, however weak it may be. There was still enough humanity there to tap. "Let's try to reach what souls they have left, shall we?"

With a sweep of her hands, she raised her palms as though directing the ocean upward from beneath them. A fine shower of droplets rose in a massive sheet hundreds of feet across. They hung suspended in a vast sparkling curtain, towering between her and the armada like a net of diamonds.

Light began to dance through the sheen of droplets. Glimpses of images flitted through it, flickering faces and scenes crossing it in rapid succession.

Ursula's voice boomed, "What is this enchantment?! What are you doing, you foolish human?!"

"Reminding them."

Men began to sink to their knees on the decks of the ships. Some were reaching out toward the images on the screen, some cried out, some wept. "Rebecca!-" "Mum!" "Darling girl!"

The surge of power flooding into Emma suddenly made her wobble. Her head was spinning. Belief flared into a bonfire of worship for Yemaja as the assembled men fought through their curse to embrace a lifetime's worth of emotion.

"Snow?"

She turned to see David and Sparrow, both staring transfixed at the wall of droplets above them. She could imagine what David was seeing as tears streamed down his face. His true love, and their infant son, most likely. Sparrow she wasn't sure of, but she thought his lips formed a name. Elizabeth?

She needed to stop this soon. For men like David and Sparrow, untouched by the curse, the flood of memories and emotions would be too powerful for them to handle for long. She thought she had made her point well enough, or at least Yemaja had.

Emma-Yemaja sought out Killian, nervously. When she began the enchantment, it had occurred to her like a knife to the heart that Killian might see someone other than her. What if he was crying out for Milah? But he wasn't looking into the curtain of water. He was looking directly at her. She smiled tremulously. He raised his fingers to his lips and kissed them, gesturing toward her. She could feel the love and belief flowing from him. His lips formed her name.

"What have you done?!" Ursula was still shouting. She was raising great heaving waves to sweep the droplets out of the air, to no avail. The curtain always coalesced again.

"I've given them a vision of the greatest love of their lives, a reminder of the love which bound them most tightly to this realm while they drew breath. For some, a mother or a sister. For many, lovers or wives or daughters."

A blinding wave of love's power blasted into Emma as the enchantment continued to work its magic on the assembled pirates. The cursed men were feeling the full depth of their emotions for the first time since the chill of the curse summoned them from the grave. And they knew Yemaja was the source. She had all the power flowing through her veins that she would ever need.

"Time for some calamari, I think," whispered Emma. She allowed the curtain of droplets to fall. Millions upon millions of beads of water cascaded back into the sea.

She gestured fluidly to the waters surrounding Ursula and murmured softly "Dolo - dife. Cho."

The wave the witch was riding collapsed beneath her, sending her tumbling into the sea. The water began to boil and steam. Ursula's scream could've been heard across the realm. The witch began casting enchantments wildly in her panic. An oily bubble finally rose around her and lifted her from the ocean, shedding water as it went. Ursula lay within the orb, twitching. Emma-Yemaja was satisfied to see her skin covered in ugly blisters.

"Release the curse, witch!" called Emma-Yemaja. She could feel the goddess enjoying this scene immensely. Emma agreed - it was satisfying to make the witch pay. But truly, she just wanted Killian returned to her. It was time to offer her a bargain. "Do it now, and we may have mercy upon you."

The witch sat upright with obvious pain. "Never!" Her voice was hoarse.

Emma-Yemaja frowned and the waves rose, angrily.

"The seas are mine, Ursula. The ocean waters of all realms will remember you, and they will boil you alive if you dare set a tentacle into them. You'll have to make your home on land forever, Ursula. Powerless."

The witch was shaking, whether with pain or fury Emma didn't know.

"I can't undo it, you horrid creature," she spat, with evident frustration. "The curse is bound to Neptune. As long as he lives, the men will serve him."

Emma felt a surge of fury. "And Killian?"

"Your man?" hissed the witch, with an evil smile. "You can't save him, even if you are Yemaja."

Emma, or perhaps it was Yemaja, reacted with an angry slash of her hand. Ursula's protective bubble popped, and the witch tumbled back into the frothing sea with a blood-curdling scream. Maybe if Emma had been herself, she would've handled things differently. She wasn't the type to let any living creature die a horrible death, no matter how deserved it might be. But the part of her that was Yemaja merely smiled at the thrashing of her enemy as the waters heaved and steamed. The movement stopped suddenly and the seas quieted. Ursula's body floated face down, reddened and blistered. All was silent except for the creaking of the gathered ships.

Emma-Yemaja hissed softly and a swarm of black serpents rose from the depths at her command. They hissed to her in respectful greeting. They threaded through the water around the Jolly Roger. She gestured to them and they made their way to the witch. They wrapped themselves around the corpulent, blistered corpse and sank with her beneath the waves. The foul evil of the witch would be dispersed throughout the ocean, where it could do no more harm.

But now Emma nearly cried with frustration. Oh Killian. Yemaja was powerful, but could she defeat Neptune? If that was the only way to return him to her, would she be able to fight him?

As if the thought had summoned him, a great spurt of water fountained up between their ships a hundred feet high. A great chariot pulled by a team of horses the size of elephants erupted from the gush, and astride the chariot rode a massive man. He was naked and very muscular, and extremely pale. His white hair and beard streamed seawater in great rivulets. His right hand gripped a trident while his left pulled back on the reins. The steeds, formed entirely of seawater, snorted massive streams of steam as they stamped and tossed their heads.

Oh crap, thought Emma. Yemaja stirred within her in fury, and perhaps a bit of fear. That terrified her more than anything. If the goddess was even a bit afraid, they were in trouble.

"Who dares to speak to my oceans? Only I, Neptune, control the waters. They do my bidding alone!" boomed his furious voice.

Emma grabbed her head. It felt suddenly as if it were being cleaved in two. Her vision swam and separated and she had the curious sensation that she possessed two sets of eyes, and two bodies. She fell backwards to the deck and the pain was suddenly gone. Yemaja stood in front of her in all her naked glory on the deck of the Jolly Roger. Emma glanced at David and Sparrow, who both looked like their eyes might fall out of their heads. She realized as she stood that Mickey was now around Yemaja's neck, and not her own. She felt tiny, powerless. The sudden absence of the goddess left her empty. Yet she was also relieved, weightless.

The goddess grew rapidly in stature. When she was double Emma's height, she stepped delicately from the deck of the Jolly Roger and placed one elegant bejeweled foot on the surface of the water. She stood and walked toward Neptune, her height increasing as she went. When she reached his chariot, she was eye to eye with Neptune.

Neptune, along with all the sailors of the armada, simply gaped. Her flawless skin reflected the setting sun like burnished copper. Silken ebony hair streamed behind her on the salty wind.

"Yemaja?"

"Neptune."

"What-? But you were gone, never to return...?" he sputtered.

"Yet here I am, returned," she purred, "to find my realms usurped by a petty king and a foul sorceress."

Neptune's horses reared with his fury. "Petty king? I have ruled over the oceans since you abandoned us. I am the god of the seas now. The humans obey my rule, even after death. Soon, I will have the power to rule over land and all the realms will bow to me!"

"You think to rule over land when even the oceans slip through your fingers? Foolish man! Your sorceress is dead and scattered to the currents. Soon you shall join her!"

Neptune roared. "A goddess you might be, Yemaja, but still you are weak! I shall destroy you and any who worship at your altar! Davey Jones - I order you, destroy that ship and sink all who crew her to the bottom of the sea!"

Yemaja hissed and the oceans began to heave. A storm broke overhead, clouds sweeping in to blot out the sun. Driving rain began to pound down at them as the goddess and king launched themselves at each other, battling for control of the water.

"Sparrow! David! We need to get out of here, now!" shouted Emma.

"Aye!" shouted Sparrow over the gale. "Get to the helm, lass!"

She ran up to the ship's wheel. From this vantage, she could see the armada making sail for them. A dozen ships, and they meant business.

She turned the wheel hard to port as Sparrow made to unfurl the main mast. They caught the wind with a massive jerk and began to tack. She hoped they would be fast enough. Without Yemaja's help, she was just an ordinary sailor, and not a very good one at that.

Killian was gripping the rail of the Black Pearl as they made for the Jolly Roger. He had no doubt that Emma's life, and that of their unborn child, was in great danger, and he had a sinking feeling he wouldn't be able to do a damn thing about it. Liam put his hand on his shoulder.

"You all right, brother?"

He met Liam's eyes, and shook his head.

"Seems you're going to be a father, lad!" Liam clapped him on the back. The forced jollity in his voice didn't escape Killian.

"Aye," he said, with a sad smile. When Ursula had said it, he hadn't believed what he was hearing. But when he met Emma's gaze, transformed though it was by Yemaja, he could see the truth of it there. A thrill of joy had reached him through the numbness of the curse. It had lasted only a brief moment though. They were locked in a hopeless battle, Emma was possessed by a sea goddess, and he was a dead man walking. How could they be having a baby in the midst of all this?

He'd allowed himself to imagine it, before all this happened. Emma carrying his child. Perhaps a little girl with her mother's stubborn spirit and his mischievous nature. He had thought they would get around to it eventually, if he could talk her into it. For a moment he was actually grateful for the numbness the curse brought. Otherwise, he'd be on his knees with the pain of what he had lost.

"Come on then, Killian. No sense sulking about. We can still help your lady, even in our sad state."

"The heart. You think we should make the attempt?" Killian felt a surge of hope. At least he could do something for her.

"Aye, the heart. 'Tis the perfect scenario, don't you think? Neptune has handed us quite a distraction," said Liam, with a grimly determined smile.

"Lead the way, brother."

They wended their way through shouting sailors and the chaos of a ship about to attack, trying to pass belowdecks unnoticed.

At the door to Davey Jones' cabin, a sentry stood guard. It was some sort of sea creature amalgam, like Jones. Its face was dominated by a wicked beak, its beady black eyes watching the corridor.

Liam strolled up to him. "Got a light, mate? Since we're about to go into battle, thought I'd find a corner for a quiet smoke."

The creature didn't acknowledge him at all.

"Fine, fine. I'll just keep looking then. Don't mind me."

As he turned to leave, he drew his dagger in a flash and drove it home in the creature's chest. It snarled and pushed him off, drawing its cutlass in a fluid motion.

"Bollocks!" yelled Killian as he dove into the fray. He and Liam hadn't fought together in many years, but their shared training came back immediately as they parried and attacked in tandem. Killian nearly laughed when Liam ducked low and allowed him to plant a boot on his back, leaping over him to attack the enemy with a maneuver they had once called the Jones' Haymaker. He drove his cutlass through the slimy bugger and pinned him against the wall. The creature struggled but couldn't break free.

"After you," he called to Liam, shaking his head with a smile. He'd missed his brother. Liam gave him a cocky grin as he passed. He slapped the creature's face as he sauntered by, narrowly missing losing his fingers when it snapped its beak at him.

They strode into Jones' cabin, not sure exactly what they were looking for.

"That must be it, there." Liam was pointing to a heavy sea chest, bound with irons and a padlock.

Killian reached for the pouch at his waist and pulled out his lock picking tools.

"You really are a pirate, then," said Liam behind him, a note of amusement in his voice.

"Aye, lucky for both of us. I'll have this open in a trice."

He bent his concentration to the lock. After a minute of delicate maneuvering, he heard it click open. Pulling back with a smile, he unbound the chest and lifted the lid. "I'll be buggered."

There was Davey Jones' heart, pulsing wetly in the cavity of the chest. He grimaced as he lifted it out. Liam handed him a kerchief, which he wrapped it in before placing it in his pocket.

"Now at least we have some leverage," he said.

"Aye, now let's go make use of it before your Emma ends up at the end of a plank."


	22. Walk the Plank

Emma stood at the edge of the plank, heart pounding. It hadn't taken long for the Black Pearl to catch up to them. Without her powers or Hook at the helm, they hadn't stood a chance.

She turned to face her captors. Sparrow and David were kneeling on the deck, swords at their throats. She shared a heartbroken look with her father. Regret weighed her down so heavily she knew she'd sink like a stone when they tossed her over the side. She should never have brought David along on this journey. Now her little brother would never know his father. Mary Margaret would never even know what happened to them. A surge of anger at herself let her momentarily fight the tide of despair that was overwhelming her.

Squaring her shoulders, she decided that if she had to go down, she'd go down fighting. Davey Jones could go straight to hell.

* * *

Killian watched from afar as Emma shared a look with David that told volumes. He wasn't so numb yet that it didn't slice him to the bone to see her in so much pain. Suddenly she stood up straighter and tossed her hair behind her with a touch of defiance. _That's my Swan. Don't give up, lass._

Even with her hands tied in front of her and her ankles bound together, she radiated control and power as she faced down Davey Jones. God, he loved this woman. He wouldn't let her walk that plank if it was the last thing he did. Which, if he was honest with himself, it likely would be.

"Jones!" he called down from the mast he'd climbed, to where the slimy bastard stood on the deck of the Pearl.

Hundreds of undead eyes swiveled to him. He pulled the heart from his vest and held it aloft. A frightened murmur ran through the crowd. He kept his eyes on Jones, who stumped slowly in his direction.

"Lad, that had best not be what I think it be," growled Jones.

"Well, if you are under the impression that it's your black, scurvy heart, then you would be correct. And if anything happens to the lovely lady on the end of your plank there, I'll send it straight into the drink."

Killian emphasized his words by dangling the heart over the railing of the Pearl.

"I believe ye be forgetting something rather crucial to your planning, boy."

"And what might that be?"

"You answer to Neptune, shellback. And that means you answer to me."

The assorted pirates laughed loudly with Jones as he chuckled.

Killian felt a thrill of fear. He hadn't had a direct order from Jones yet. Would he indeed be forced to do his bidding? If so, this plot would come to naught.

"Hand it over, boy."

Killian felt his arm jerk toward him, as his body leapt to obey. Damn it all! He struggled against it fruitlessly. He felt the urge to follow Jones' order overriding his own desires, like a relentless tide pulling him away from shore.

He found himself offering the heart toward Davey Jones, and cursed himself for a blackguard as he did. How could he save Emma when he wasn't even master of his own body anymore? He could've wept with frustration.

Jones strolled to him, leisurely, still chuckling as he took the heart from Killian's shaking fingers.

"Fool. You think to fight the curse, when ye do not realize you be its slave already."

"Bastard. Don't you dare touch her." If looks could kill, he would have burned Jones to a pile of cinders on the deck.

"Don't worry, boy. I needn't touch her to kill her." The smile on Jones' ugly face chilled Killian to the bone. Before he could wonder what the pirate had in mind, Jones whirled to Emma while drawing his musket.

"No!" screamed Killian. He heard David and Sparrow shouting.

It seemed to happen in slow motion. He saw the shot take Emma dead center in the chest, her eyes widening in surprise as the force of the blow knocked her off her feet. She fell backward over the edge of the plank, and dropped out of sight.

"No!" he howled in rage as he ran forward, pushing past Jones. He'd reached as far as the edge of the plank before a barked order stopped him as if with an invisible wall.

"Halt, ye scurvy dog!"

Killian came to a screeching halt not of his own desiring. He teetered precariously, looking down into the stormy waters below, desperate for a sight of Emma. There was nothing to be seen. Tied as she was, she would've sunk straight away. Every second counted. With every ounce of determination he still possessed, he stripped off his coat and his boots.

"Ye wish to follow her to a watery grave, do ye?"

Killian made no reply, instead he inched forward on the plank. It took all his concentration to do even that much. Defying orders was beyond his strength, but he had to try.

"What do you think, lads? Should we let him follow his lady love down to Davey Jones' locker?"

"Aye!" came a chorus of shouts.

"Go on then, Captain Hook. Walk the plank."

He turned his head to give David a brief nod. David returned it solemnly. He tipped his hand from his forehead in a salute farewell, then dove into the icy waters below.

For the first time since Ursula cursed him, he was actually grateful he didn't need to breathe. He kicked straight downward, hoping against hope that he would find Emma somehow in the dark waters.

He'd been swimming through infinite grayness for some time, no longer positive he was heading straight down. He paused for a moment and cast about, searching desperately for a sign of Emma.

A dark streak suddenly slid below him in the darkness. Was that a serpent? It was just a whisper of movement, but it was the only hint he had to go on. He followed in the direction it led, hoping his eyes weren't misleading him.

He couldn't quite catch up to it, but he kept it in sight as the long slender creature wound its way into the depths. After some time, he thought he glimpsed something. It was a dark shape ahead, and he couldn't tell what it was. As he approached it, he let out a wordless scream. A massive row of teeth turned toward him. Sharks. He'd left his cutlass up above on the Pearl. Suddenly the black shape of the serpent swept up between him and the menacing shark. It struck out toward the creature. To Hook's surprise, the enormous shark turned and swam off into the depths. The snake turned back to him. Its eyes were a sparkling blue that glowed in the dim light. This had something to do with Emma. Or Yemaja at least. He could've sworn it beckoned him forward with a toss of its diamond shaped head as it swam forward in the water.

More dark shapes were hovering out in the ocean around them. Were they all sharks? Bloody hell. He followed Yemaja's serpent until suddenly he saw what all the sharks were circling around. Emma was floating outstretched, her golden hair surrounding her like a halo. If Killian's heart still beat, it would've stopped in terror seeing her pale and unbreathing, bobbing defenselessly in the current. A small cloud of blood was hovering around her chest. This was what was drawing all the sharks. The serpent had swum up to Emma as Killian tried to figure out what to do. The dark shapes were sweeping in closer and closer. The serpent began circling her body in a figure eight. The shapes scattered. He would kiss this snake, if he could do it without being bitten for his trouble. As he stroked toward her, he saw the snake settle around her shoulders. It seemed to suddenly meld with her skin, glowing blue as it did so.

The cloud of blood around her chest seemed to disappear, flowing back into her body. The snake seemed to be constricting around her chest, compressing her with strong, regular squeezes. Killian made as if to grab her, intending to start swimming up with her to the surface. Perhaps she could still be saved. The snake shook its small head at him. He paused and waited. Its black skin glowed with a faint bluish tone, radiating in the darkness of the water.

Suddenly, Emma's whole body jerked and spasmed. Her eyes opened, and they sparkled brilliant aquamarine. The snake beckoned to him with its tail, and he took that as a sign that it was time to get out of there. He swam up to her and threaded his hook into the bonds between her wrists. He pressed his hand briefly to her cheek. Their eyes met. She seemed disoriented, confused. He leaned in and kissed her. She gave him a shaky half-smile. He needed to get her out of here in case whatever magic had revived her wore off. They were fathoms deep. He pointed upward and she nodded. He kicked upward, pulling her behind him.

When they finally broke the surface, Emma began coughing and sputtering. "Hurts," she whispered, pressing her bound hands against her chest. Whatever magic the snake had done to stop the bleeding, she was still injured. They needed to get out of the water.

"Aye, I know love. Hang on, Emma."

He cradled her against him, trying to ignore the snake between them, and began kicking in the direction of Tortuga. It was a very, very long way off.

"David?" she asked.

"He's still aboard the Pearl, as far as I know."

"Alive?"

"Aye, but probably not for long. Save your strength, love."

The seas were not calm. The storm was still raging all around them. Neptune and Yemaja must still be battling it out. Swimming was damn near impossible. They were making almost no progress and they were both swallowing alarming amounts of seawater with every wave they breached.

"Killian, hang on to me tightly. I'm going to try to get us out of here."

Her tone warned him not to argue with her. He stopped and wrapped his arms securely around waist. The seas immediately around them suddenly calmed. There was a clear path in front of them, as though an invisible wedge was flattening the waves. It led straight to the Jolly Roger, which was certainly closer than the island. All right then, back into the belly of the beast they would go. He turned as if to start swimming, but Emma stopped him with a shake of her head.

Suddenly they were being pulled through the water smoothly, as though with a tug line. But they were also standing upright, and the movement was gentle. It was a jarring sensation, but Killian was learning to just go with it when Emma was working her Yemaja magic.

He focused on holding her tightly. He didn't like how cold and clammy her cheek was against his. _The baby!_ Gods, he hadn't thought about that. What was all this shock and trauma doing to their unborn child? He still couldn't quite believe it.

They rapidly approached the Jolly Roger, which was still tethered to the Pearl despite the heaving waves. He'd just begun to wonder how they'd get aboard, and if that was even a good idea, when the water lifted them to the deck and deposited them on it with a tremendous splash. The assorted pirates on deck were staring at them in shock. Emma lay still, coughing and sputtering weakly. He suspected her use of magic to get them here had cost her a lot of her remaining energy.

He propped himself up tiredly and reached for his dagger. He slid it through her wet bonds and freed her arms and legs. He peeled back her shirt to look at her wound. It was directly between her breasts. The bleeding was stopped, but he could see the round bullet buried in her flesh.

"Can you get the bullet out?" she rasped.

"I think so."

"Do it."

He hesitated a moment before leaning over her with the dagger. The rocking of the ship made this extremely perilous. He steadied himself. She grabbed his wrist.

"I trust you, Killian."

She put a lot of emotion into those words. He closed his eyes tightly. The terror of losing her again flooded past the numbness of the curse. When he opened them again, her eyes were their normal blue, and they were full of love and trust he wasn't sure he could ever deserve.

With difficulty, he turned his attention back to the bullet. She cried out when he slid the tip of the dagger into the wound and levered the bullet out of it. She was gripping his wrist so tightly it hurt. When the round finally came loose, she melted bonelessly against the deck. He thought she'd lost consciousness, but she suddenly smiled at him. The serpent was still curled around her neck. It began to move against her skin, and as he watched in amazement, the wound began to knit itself closed.

A rosy color returned to her skin and her breathing eased. Sitting up, she threw her arms around him. He wrapped himself tightly around her, not caring at the moment that they were surrounded by hostile pirates. She was alive in his arms, and he loved her. He could still feel it. They pulled back just far enough to smile at each other before leaning in for a kiss. As their lips touched, he felt a hot wave rush through his body, as if a dry desert breeze were sweeping the cold numbness of the curse out of his very bones. Her tongue caressed his gently, and the heat continued to spiral through his entire being, awakening every nerve, every emotion. Suddenly his lungs filled with air, and he breathed deeply against her lips. Their eyes met in startled surprise as a flash of brilliant white light flew outward from their joined bodies with a massive gust of warmth and energy. Overwhelming emotion coursed through Killian. He grabbed Emma tightly to him and rocked her back and forth, nearly sobbing with joy. The curse was broken.

With reluctance, they eventually parted and stood up. The pirates around them on deck were milling about in dazed confusion. Some were weeping openly, some were laughing hysterically. All were freed of the curse. They were still dead, still ghosts of their former selves, but they were no longer cursed.

"What's the matter with you brainless scum?! Seize them!" came Davey Jones' booming voice.

They turned in unison, joining hands as they faced the deck of the Pearl, broadside to the Jolly Roger.

Davey Jones was striding up and down the deck of the Pearl, gesturing angrily at the Jolly Roger. None of the sailors made a move to follow his orders. Killian wanted to laugh. He exchanged a sidelong glance with Emma, who was also smiling.

"The curse is broken, Jones. Seems you're down to a crew of one all of a sudden," she yelled.

"How is this possible? Nothing can break the curse. Neptune still lives," he pointed to where the huge figures of Neptune and Yemaja continued to grapple in the waves, lightning forking overhead. "What's the meaning of this? Follow orders, you dogs!"

"They won't. You've forgotten one thing in your planning, _boy_," yelled Killian.

"And what might that be?" bit off Jones angrily.

"True love's kiss," yelled Emma. She squeezed Killian's hand and looked up at him with a smile that stopped his heart. He put his hook gently below her chin and tilted her lips toward his. Their embrace blocked out the rest of the stormy world, narrowing down the universe to just the two of them. Well, technically three. Killian smiled against her lips. She returned it, before wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him soundly.

The sailors and pirates were cheering around them as they all began to realize what had happened. They were free.

A shot cracked through the air, and Killian heard a bullet whiz through the air above them. They broke apart and he saw Jones trying to reload his musket. Fury boiled over. This bastard needed to walk the plank, immediately. Before he could make a move, he saw Liam approach Jones and knock the gun from his hand with his cutlass.

"Defend yourself, cur," called Liam. He stood with a relaxed grace, waiting until Jones addressed him to strike. Jones pulled his own cutlass with a snarl and leapt forward. He was a good fighter, but large and heavy. Liam was agile and quick. His sword danced circles around the monster.

"Who is that?" asked Emma.

"That's my brother, Liam."

"Thought so. I can see the resemblance. Is he as good with a sword as you are?"

"Aye."

"Excellent," she said with satisfaction.

Jones' cutlass banged to the deck with a clatter. He was backing away from Liam, who'd disarmed him with ease. He was exhorting his crew to help him. None made a move.

Liam approached him, sword raised. "For what you have done to me, to these men, and most especially my brother and his lady, you deserve a most painful death. Do you choose to die by the sword, or walk the plank and feed the sharks?"

"You'll never walk me from my own plank, boy!" roared Jones as he lunged bare-handed toward Liam, who stepped aside smoothly. As Jones turned to try again, Liam ran his sword, not through Jones chest, but through the small pouch hanging at his waist, which contained his heart. Jones' hoarse wail rang out across the ocean as he collapsed to his knees.

"Damn you," he croaked, as Liam pulled back his sword and stepped away. The bulky corpse of what was once the fearsome Davey Jones fell heavily to the deck. His tentacles gave a final twitch and then were still. A cheer rose amongst the gathered crowd. Killian put his forehead against Emma's, reveling in the sensation of being alive again.


	23. Twilight

chapter 23

Thunder clapped tremendously overhead. Yemaja was gaining the upper hand in her combat with Neptune. She backhanded him with a blow that send shockwaves through the water. He went flying hundreds of meters before slamming into the waves. The goddess stalked toward him as he crawled wearily to his knees. Neptune's power seemed to have waned as the curse broke, while Yemaja's only grew.

"I've missed seeing you kneel before me, Neptune," purred Yemaja, swaying her hips as she placed one delicate foot in front of the other, savoring her victory. Neptune hung his head, water and sweat glistening on his white marble skin.

"Aye, Amathaunta. I yield. Gladly."

"You dare?! You dare use that name, traitor?"

"It is your true name to me, and always shall be. It is what I whispered when I worshipped between your thighs and what I cried out in my pain, when you abandoned our oceans. When you abandoned me, these long centuries ago."

Yemaja hesitated a moment, then gently placed a hand on Neptune's bowed head, running her fingers through his silver locks. Almost lovingly.

"Had I not caught you cavorting with those nymphs, perhaps I might have stayed. I did regret my haste, at times."

Neptune bowed his head more deeply, and shuddered as though in pain.

"Can't seem to make up their bleeding minds, can they?" asked Sparrow, nodding at them with a raised eyebrow. He was rubbing his wrists where they had been bound. "Either kill each other or bugger each other, and be done with it. Personally," he leaned toward Hook conspiratorially, "I'm hoping for a bit of both."

"Does seem as though there's a bit of a history with these two," replied Killian.

Yemaja stepped closer to Neptune. Her expression was wary, but no longer furious. With a groan, he reached up and wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his head against her navel. Yemaja tilted her head back and closed her eyes with pleasure. Neptune growled hungrily and lowered his head further to tongue the apex of her thighs.

"Oh my," said David, sounding scandalized.

"You can say that again," replied Emma. It might have been her connection with Yemaja, or the heat of Killian's body against hers, but she was feeling distinctly aroused all of a sudden. She leaned back a little harder into Killian and was gratified when he pressed against her, wrapping his arm tightly around her waist.

Yemaja lifted one slender leg and looped it gracefully over Neptune's shoulder. His alabaster hands were gripping her copper ass cheeks and tilting her forward against his tongue. She gripped his hair tightly and rocked herself back and forth against his mouth.

Suddenly Yemaja pulled his head back sharply, forcing him to lean on his heels. Their eyes were locked as she spread her legs to straddle him and sank down, slowly. Neptune's enormous erection sprang up beneath them and Yemaja encircled it with one jeweled hand, guiding it inside her. Neptune wound his hands into her hair and crushed her mouth against his, kissing her passionately as she buried him inside her to the hilt. He began to thrust as she rode him, rocking the seas with their lovemaking.

Emma felt herself blushing. Whatever she did, she would not be looking David in the eye for a while. She turned her eyes up to Killian's, and saw that he was also looking a bit uncomfortable. But she could also see the heat in his look, and feel his cock pressing against her backside.

He cleared his throat. "Perhaps we should make sail, give them a bit of privacy-"

He was interrupted by a loud, feminine moan from Yemaja. Their pace was increasing. Just when Emma thought they were about to witness a grand finale, however, the two of them began sinking into the seas. As they disappeared, the storm around them began to quiet. The wind died down to a soft, warm breeze and the sea gentled. The Jolly Roger ceased pitching and drifted lazily in the rhythmic waves. The clouds overhead teased apart, revealing brilliant blue sky. Emma tilted her head back to enjoy the sunshine suddenly warming her face. She opened her eyes and shared a smile with Killian.

"I think we're going to be all right," she whispered.

"Aye," he whispered back, as he pressed his lips gently to hers.

"Ahem," coughed Sparrow. Killian and Emma broke apart, still holding each other, and glared at him.

"We seem to be drifting with the tide, and still surrounded by a fair number of disreputable pirates. The sort that would happily divest a small crew of its ship," he was looking from Killian to Emma with an exasperated expression. "Savvy?"

Killian jumped as though he'd been shocked and ran over to the railing. "Liam!" he shouted, waving.

His brother was at the helm of the Black Pearl, a half league away, waving back.

"Emma, would you like to meet my brother?"

She grinned at him. "Definitely."

"Sparrow, weigh anchor!" he barked, as he dashed up to the helm.

A few minutes later, the two ships were side by side in the calm sea. The sun was a brilliant red orb on the horizon, turning the waters around them into liquid lava and gold. The shadows were lengthening in the rich light. Sunset was upon them.

Liam clambered aboard the Jolly Roger. He embraced Killian enthusiastically, before pulling away and bowing courteously to Emma.

"You must be Emma Swan," he said. He looked like Killian around the eyes, but he had sandy hair. She found herself wondering if their daughter might end up blonde after all.

"Yes, that's me," she replied, holding out her hand.

With a mischievous grin that seemed quite familiar, Liam took it with grace and bestowed a kiss on the back of it.

"Oy, enough of that," teased Killian.

"Can't imagine what you see in this rascal, but I'm pleased nonetheless."

"He has his moments," smiled Emma.

"Congratulations to you both, by the way."

Emma met Killian's gaze. They both blushed. They needed to have a long conversation.

"Yeah, it seems I'm going to be a grandfather again," said David from behind them, sounding none too pleased.

"Liam, this is my father, David."

"Your father? You couldn't be older than I am, or was rather," said Liam, turning to David with a puzzled expression.

"No use trying to figure that one out, mate. Their family tree is a bit bollocksed," interjected Sparrow.

"Magic," explained Killian with a shrug.

They all paused for a moment to admire the sunset that was raking them with gold and ruby rays.

"Speaking of magic, I'm beginning to wonder what I'm still doing here," said Liam, running his hand through his hair. He was definitely still a ghost. In fact, he was looking more transparent by the moment.

"Emma Swan," came Yemaja's voice. She was rising softly from the sea next to the Jolly Roger. The water sparkled in the golden light as it poured down her bronzed skin in rivulets. Her shifting blue eyes were a blazing aquamarine, like the color of a tropical pool that Emma had some really good memories of. Yemaja really was stunning. And if Emma didn't know any better, she'd also just had a really, really good time with Neptune. The woman was glowing with sexual energy so strong, it made Emma immediately start thinking some very impure thoughts about the man standing next to her.

"Yemaja," she said as she stepped forward.

"The shellbacks have been released from the curse. They will fade from this plane of existence with the setting of the sun. Neptune will allow them peace for the remainder of eternity."

Emma doubted that he'd allow Yemaja much peace, though, after what she'd just witnessed.

She gave the goddess a small grin but merely replied,"Thank you."

"It was the power of true love's kiss that broke Ursula's curse. You possess all the magic you will ever need, Emma Swan. As does the child you carry. She will be very special."

Emma put her hand on her abdomen possessively. She felt Killian's arm wind around her and his hand cover her own. She'd heard of people being deliriously happy before, but she'd never felt it until now. Her eyes welled with tears. It was almost too much to take in.

"Yemaja-"

"Yes?"

"Can you return us to the realm we came from? We have family there we'd like to get back to."

Yemaja smiled. "Of course. Would you like to return on your ship?"

"Yes, please. But after the sun sets."

"When the sun sinks below the horizon, it shall be done. Farewell for now, Emma Swan. I hope to meet you again someday."

She closed her sapphire eyes and sank beneath the waves. There wasn't much light left. They had only moments until sunset.

"Liam-"

"Killian, lad. It was a gift to see you again. And to see you happy...it does my heart good, brother."

"I miss you, Liam."

"And I you. Now go, enjoy your life. Love that woman as she deserves, and be a good father."

Killian swallowed hard. "Goodbye, Liam."

"Until we meet again, Killian."

They embraced one final time. Emma thought Killian's eyes were suspiciously wet when he pulled away. She felt a lump in her throat as well when she faced Liam.

There was just a glimmer of sunlight stretching over the water now.

"Emma, I wish I had time to know you better. From what I've seen, I could imagine no finer match for my brother. Thank you for everything you've done."

"I wish we had more time, too, Liam. I'd like to hear about Killian's childhood."

Liam barked a laugh. "Oh, the tales I could tell. Perhaps you've gotten off lightly, Captain Hook!"

Killian smiled as he took Emma's hand, shaking his head.

Liam was still chuckling as the last of the light twinkled and disappeared. He faded, then was gone, leaving them staring out to sea in the deep blue twilight.


	24. Sunset

Killian gazed out over the water and nuzzled Emma's neck. She was sandwiched comfortably between him and the ship's rail, facing out to sea where the Black Pearl was disappearing in the distance. The outline of Tortuga, her destination, was barely visible now in the encroaching darkness. It was too far gone to make out the tiny figure at her helm, but Killian could see Jack Sparrow in his mind's eye, tacking into the evening breeze and, of course, swigging an occasional bit of rum.

* * *

Sparrow had leapt up to the rail of the Jolly Roger as soon as Yemaja had disappeared into the sea after offering them passage back to Storybrooke.

"Methinks that is my cue to depart, mates."

"You're taking the Pearl, are you then?" asked Killian, nodding to where the now-empty ship bobbed in the waves adjacent to them.

"Tisn't the Jolly Roger, Captain Hook, but she'll do."

Killian stepped forward and offered him his hand. "That's Killian, to you, Jack."

Sparrow looked down at his boots, clearly overcome. He jumped back down from the rail and took Killian's hand, shaking it solemnly. "It's been a...well, not exactly a pleasure, mind, but I've had worse adventures in me time. If you're ever in Tortuga in future, ask about for the Pearl, will you? The rum'll be on me."

David approached and offered his hand as well. "You really think they'll rebuild Tortuga?"

"Aye, o'course they will, mate. Where there are pirates, there needs always be a Tortuga," he winked at David, shaking his hand.

He turned to Emma, suddenly serious. She offered him her hand. "Sparrow," she nodded, amending it a moment later in an affectionate tone, "Jack." If Killian didn't know any better, he'd say she looked a trifle sad to see him go. He bit back a smile. His Swan. So tough on the outside, marshmallow on the inside.

Sparrow took her hand, bowing to plant a chaste kiss on the back of it. "Emma. I've never known the like of ye, and I shan't expect to meet the like of ye ever again."

"I'm not sure if that's a compliment...?" she asked.

He waggled his eyebrows at her. "As we both well know, love, I'd be putting life and limb at risk giving a compliment to you in present company."

Killian grinned despite himself. "Off with you, scoundrel."

Sparrow climbed up on top of the railing yet again and Killian tossed him the line that tethered them to the Pearl's mast above.

"You sure you can sail her all by yourself?" asked Emma.

Sparrow looked offended. "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, lass. Of course I can crew her meself!"

"All right, all right, just asking."

He looked mollified. He cocked the brim of his hat forward in a farewell salute.

"Fair winds and following seas, Captain Hook."

"And to you, Captain Sparrow."

With a final cheeky grin, Sparrow leapt from the Jolly Roger with a great whoop. He swung out over the space between their ships. Killian winced as he suddenly realized that the swing of the rope would be a bit short. Beside him, Emma actually covered her eyes with a gasp. Sparrow let go of the rope at the height of the swing, which as it happened was just shy of the ship he was trying to board. He dropped toward the ocean like a stone, arms windmilling, only narrowly grabbing the railing with one hand as he fell.

David was snickering, and Killian was stifling his own laughter. Emma peeked through her fingers and sighed with relief and consternation.

They watched him struggle for several moments before he finally got a leg up over the rail and flopped onto the deck. He jumped up immediately and brushed himself off, evidently trying to pretend that nothing whatsoever had just happened.

He set about the ship, untying this and stowing that. Killian wrapped his arms around Emma again as they watched Sparrow weigh anchor and point the ship toward the island where the once and future haven of Tortuga could be found. With a final wave from her new captain, the Pearl's dark sails snapped in the breeze and filled. She pulled away at a solid clip, Sparrow's dreadlocks flying in the wind.

"He's really a terrible pirate," murmured Emma, not without affection.

"He kinda grew on me," piped up David, sounding surprised.

"Aye," smiled Killian. "Like a bloody barnacle."

They all chuckled quietly. Killian had a feeling they hadn't seen the last of Jack Sparrow.

* * *

Not an hour ago, the seas had been churning with the battle between Yemaja and Neptune. All was calm, now. The light was nearly gone with the departed sun, ceding the darkening azure sky to the stars and moon. Emma sighed and nestled more closely to him. He was still marveling at his return to life. The breeze ruffling his hair, the scent of Emma's skin, the warmth of her body against his...it all threatened to overwhelm him. He closed his eyes and took a deep pull of the salty air. Hesitantly, he raised his hand to caress her abdomen. To his relief, she didn't stiffen or pull away. She brought her own hand up to cover his and pressed it against her. He swallowed the lump that suddenly formed in his throat.

"Emma-"

"Killian..." she whispered, stroking his hand soothingly. "Let's talk about it later, all right?"

She sounded exhausted. He tightened his arms around her and kissed her temple. It hadn't been an easy journey, even by their usual standards. And she had another very good reason for being tired. His child was growing inside her. His daughter, or at least Yemaja had said something that made him think it was a girl. A beautiful little spitfire with her mother's backbone and, hopefully, just a hint of her father's penchant for mischief. His chest constricted with equal amounts pure joy and utter terror. Him, a father?! An hour ago he'd been a dead man walking, and now the pulse of new life thrummed underneath his fingertips. It was almost beyond reckoning. As if she could sense what he was thinking, he felt Emma smile against his cheek.

The Jolly Roger was barely moving in the calm seas. Yemaja had said they would be returned to Storybrooke after sunset, which should mean any minute now. A falling star streaked out of the sky, dropping toward the ocean in a flash of light. Killian had learned long ago to never let a chance to make a wish go by. He had just sent a silent prayer out into the universe that their journey home be smoother than the journey that brought them there, when another star followed close behind. Then a third. Then another, and another. Soon the filament trails of thousands of falling stars were blazing through the night sky around them in dazzling streaks of white fire. What in the bloody hell was happening now?

He exchanged a wondering glance with David, who shrugged.

"It's...beautiful..." breathed Emma.

"Aye," agreed Killian.

As they watched in amazement, the sky was slowly transforming into a web of brilliant light. Thousands of falling stars joined and blended together in a sheet of shimmering celestial fire, reflecting perfectly in the mirror flatness of the sea. It seemed as though they were floating in a pool of molten white gold.

Emma turned around in Killian's arms and tilted her face up to him. Her beautiful eyes, round with wonder, shone with the refracted light of thousands of shooting stars. He brushed his thumb across the alabaster softness of her cheek, which was bathed in a golden glow. The brightness around them was intensifying, becoming more luminescent with each passing moment. Emma's hair spilled over her shoulders, glowing like silk spun from sunshine. He'd never seen anything more lovely in all his days. Her lips parted and he could wait no longer. Just before their lips touched, he whispered, "Marry me, Emma."

She drew a sharp breath in surprise, but in the space of a heartbeat she was returning his kiss with fire and passion to equal his own.

The light suffusing them intensified to a brightness that was almost painful, even through closed eyelids. Then, suddenly, it was gone. The shift to darkness was abrupt and absolute.

Killian opened his eyes and pulled away from Emma reluctantly, trying to let his eyes adjust. The air smelled still of the ocean, but his keen sailor's intuition told him they were not on the same seas they were a moment ago.

"We're home! Oh, thank god." David was leaning down, hands on his knees. The relief in his voice was palpable.

The lights of Storybrooke twinkled at the edge of the harbor.

Killian looked down at Emma, trying not to feel anxious. He hadn't even been thinking clearly when he'd asked her to marry him just now, but he found he meant it more than he had ever meant anything. Would she say yes?

She was gazing at Storybrooke with an expression of pure relief. He wouldn't remind her of how desperate she had been to escape it just a few weeks ago. A few weeks?! It felt like years since they'd been here last. A sudden wave of weariness settled on his shoulders like a wet blanket. Emma was sagging against him, clearly on her last legs as well. They would talk in the morning. For now, they needed to get to shore, and find Henry and Mary Margaret.

After that, if he had his way, he wasn't going to let her out of bed for a week.


	25. Home

"He asked you to marry him?" said Mary Margaret, at first incredulous but smiling broadly by the end of the question.

Emma rolled her eyes. She'd had a feeling that her mother would react this way. She could feel the wave of enthusiasm about to engulf her, and she held up a hand to forestall it.

"I've never been the marrying kind, you know that."

"Emma," she said, the consternation in her voice obvious. "I know how you two feel about each other..."

"There's something else," mumbled Emma, staring down at her shoes. She'd left Killian in bed at Granny's this morning, sneaking out before dawn like a thief. She'd felt guilty slipping away, but she needed to clear her thoughts. Her eyes had popped open as she lay beside him, despite her exhaustion, and her mind wouldn't quit whirring with anxieties.

They'd gotten to the dock in the middle of the previous night after anchoring the Jolly Roger, to find Grumpy dozing in a chair at the guard booth. He'd jerked awake at their approach, yelling and jumping up and down fit to wake all of Storybrooke. They'd calmed him down and he'd had the presence of mind to call Mary Margaret on his cell phone, despite the late hour.

She'd apparently stationed a rotating coterie of dwarfs to keep an eye on the harbor in case the Jolly Roger reappeared. He gave them a lift to her apartment as David took the cell phone from him, trying to field her questions as they drove. He was tiredly trying to answer her barrage as best he could, but Emma could tell from what she overheard that Mary Margaret was a bit of a wreck. When they got in the loft, she and David had collapsed in each other's arms immediately, leaving Emma leaning against Hook, feeling suddenly awkward. Baby Neal began to cry at all the commotion. Mary Margaret gathered Emma up in a hug, but she felt almost numb she was so exhausted.

"Oh Emma, you look like you're about to collapse, you all do! I want to hear what happened but I think you should get some rest before you fall over."

She'd nodded tiredly and promised to come back the next morning. She wanted to see Henry as well, but that could wait until they'd had a few hours of sleep. No sense waking him in the middle of the night. She and Hook had trudged over to Granny's and collapsed fully clothed in each other's arms without a word.

Now she was back in her parents' loft as the sun began to silhouette the library's clock tower, cradling a cup of cocoa and feeling very lost. She looked up to her mother with tears in her eyes.

"I'm pregnant."

Snow had looked stunned for a moment, before breaking out in a huge smile.

"Emma, that's...that's wonderful!"

Emma looked up at her, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Is it?"

"Don't you...want the baby?"

"Yes! I think. I don't know."

"You love Killian, Emma, don't you?"

"More than I've ever loved anyone, except Henry of course."

"Then what's the problem, dear? Tell me, maybe I can help."

"It's just...so much, so soon. We haven't even had any time together really, just the two of us. And our lives are so...so...nuts! Every day some new threat pops out of the woodwork. And he's a pirate, for god's sake! What are our lives going to be like? And what if he only proposed because of the baby?"

"Ah. I see." Mary Margaret was looking at her sympathetically.

"What?" said Emma, suspiciously.

"You're afraid he only wants to marry you because you're pregnant?"

"Maybe? I don't know. I'm just so...so tired...and this is all...so much...and I was possessed by a sea goddess...and I fought ghost pirates...and I just...I just want to sleep..." she started hiccuping and then she was suddenly bawling like a little girl. Mary Margaret's arms went around her and she let herself sob in her embrace. She hadn't really cried, not in decades. Even when Neal left her in prison, she'd gritted her teeth and steeled herself against the pain. Even when she gave up Henry, which was the hardest thing she'd ever done, her eyes had stayed dry. Crying would do no good. But now her tears flooded out of her and she found herself weeping uncontrollably.

Mary Margaret was making cooing noises, soothing her as she let her cry herself out.

When Emma finally got herself together, she blew her nose loudly and took a shuddering breath. Mary Margaret patted her arm sympathetically. She began to talk, quietly. "I cried a lot during this last pregnancy, myself. I didn't with you, for some reason, but this time, with little Neal- it happened a lot. I was just overwhelmed with sadness and worry sometimes. I even cried at car commercials. It was ridiculous. But I think it's normal, Emma. Don't be so hard on yourself, dear."

Emma nodded. "It must be the baby, I've never been this weepy."

David shuffled out of the bedroom and made himself a cup of coffee before joining them.

"You've had a rough week, kiddo. We all have. Cut yourself some slack."

"I guess so. I just don't know what to do next."

"Can I give you some unsolicited fatherly advice?"

Emma gave him a watery smile as she blew her nose again. "Go right ahead."

"Marry him."

Emma and Snow both looked at him in surprise. Snow's mouth was hanging open.

"Charming, a week ago you were practically begging your daughter to jump ship and now you want her to _marry_ the pirate?," said Snow incredulously.

David grinned at her over his coffee mug. "Yep."

"That must've been some adventure you three had."

Emma shook her head. "You've got that right."

David put down his mug and reached for her hand.

"Emma, I have never been more wrong about someone than I have been about Killian. He is a good man, maybe even a great one. Don't push him away because you're scared. What the two of you have, it's not only special, it's true love. Trust me when I say there is no force more powerful." He shared a loving smile with his wife, before continuing," I know you've had it tough, and it's hard for you to trust people, men particularly. But you two are absolutely right for each other. If you want my advice, don't fight it. He's good for you. And he'll be a great father to that little girl."

"Girl?" shrieked Mary Margaret. "You didn't say you knew it would be a girl!"

"Yeah, we got some strong hints from Yemaja about that," laughed Emma. "I didn't mean to hold out on you."

"Dish, Emma. I want all the details!" she gushed. The sound of Neal's hungry cries from the other room interrupted. She jumped up to get the baby. "I want to hear everything!"

Emma squeezed David's hand. "Thanks, David. That means a lot, coming from you. Really."

"He's a good one, Emma. Marry him."

"I think you might be right."

They smiled at each other. The door to the loft banged open and there was a sudden blur of brown hair and plaid. "Mom!"

Emma jumped up and was nearly knocked over when Henry hugged her. "What happened?! Where did you go!? Tell me everything!"

"Okay, okay. Sit down, kid. It's a long story. I'm going to need more cocoa."


	26. Aye

Chapter 26 Yes

Emma had finished her tale and answered all Henry's questions at length. After her third cup of cocoa with liberal cinnamon, she was feeling a bit better. Her crying jag had wrung her out, and in a weird way she felt much better. Or maybe it was just David's advice sinking in.

She'd peeled herself away from her family, promising more time later. Henry had handled the news about the baby surprisingly well. He was actually excited, she thought. He even asked her if she was going to marry Killian! This was all very strange. She needed to be with Killian, now. She needed to feel his arms around her. And she needed to sleep.

When she got to Granny's, however, the bed was empty. Where could he have gone? If he wasn't here, he would've known to look for her at the loft. Odd.

She left and headed down to the docks, which is the only other place she thought he could be.

Sure enough, she found him sitting at the end of the pier, legs dangling and staring out to sea with a melancholy look on his face.

She dropped down beside him, surprised when he barely acknowledged her.

"What's eating you?" she huffed, a bit hurt at his sudden lack of affection.

He tossed a pebble out into the water, watching the ripples spread. He was silent a few moments before responding. "Do you love me, Emma?"

"Yes," she replied, without hesitation.

"Is that enough?"

Her breath caught. "What do you mean?"

"I came to the loft, to find you after you snuck out this morning."

"I didn't sneak-" she bit her tongue when he looked at her disbelievingly. "Okay, I snuck out. I needed to think. And?"

"I overheard a bit of your conversation with your mother."

"Oh."

"You're not sure you want to marry a pirate. Much less a former pirate, with not a great deal of marketable skills aside from captaining a ship. I guess I can understand that. I suppose I don't have a lot to offer, if I give up the sea."

"Killian-"

"Lass, let me finish. I know I have a past, a mostly unpleasant one at that, and perhaps I wouldn't be the perfect husband. Or father," his voice caught. "But I would love you completely, all of my life-"

She silenced him with a kiss. He made to pull away, but she wound her arms more tightly around him. Once he'd finally given up talking and was kissing her back with passion, she pulled away a fraction and locked eyes with him.

"Killian," she whispered breathily,"will you marry me?"

He smiled hesitantly. "You're sure?"

"Yeah, I am," she smiled at him. She searched her own feelings and was relieved to find it was absolutely true.

"Aye, love. Aye."

They kissed fiercely, the heat of the sun's rays warming their skin. Emma felt radiantly happy. Whatever crazy thing happened next, and she was learning that there always would be something, she wouldn't be facing it alone.


	27. Vows

"Ready, Emma?" asked David, who was holding a hand out to her. He was smiling but his eyes were suspiciously wet. He was dressed in attire befitting a king, in a blue velvet waistcoat and tan breeches. There was probably going to be quite a mix of garb at this ceremony. Her own dress was more appropriate to Storybrooke. Her mother had tried to get her to choose a more princessy gown, but Emma had insisted on something simpler. It was a form-fitted sleeveless style in white silk, with subtly embroidered lace at the bodice and train. She had known the moment she put it on that it was perfect. She couldn't wait to see Killian's face when he saw her in it.

Her only concession to the Enchanted Forest contingent was the elegant gold tiara perched in her upswept hair, which was the 'something borrowed' element of her outfit. Belle had offered to loan it to her for the ceremony from Mr. Gold's collection and it would've seemed churlish to refuse, since they were all trying their best to mend fences and live in peace together. She'd decided to skip the veil, though. Thankfully Mary Margaret had agreed on that point. The 'something blue' was the sapphire twinkling in her engagement ring. She shifted where she stood, feeling keenly aware of the snug band of the garter around her thigh. She blushed, imagining Killian sliding it down later...

Concentrate, Swan. Wedding first, then the wedding night. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves and clasped her father's hand.

"Yep. Let's do this."

They climbed the gangplank leading aboard The Jolly Roger. The ship had never looked lovelier. Emma had a moment's deja vu as they came aboard. She thought she may have dreamed this very scene, once. The rails and masts of the ship were wound thickly with vines and flowers. An array of white chairs crowded the lower deck, festooned with ribbons and sprays of blossoms. The warm sunshine of late afternoon bathed the assembled guests in golden light.

Most of Storybrooke was here. The assembled dwarves, fairies, and miscellaneous citizens of the Enchanted Forest were murmuring happily, holding glasses of champagne. Even Mr. Gold was amongst them, accompanied by Belle. Who would ever have guessed that Rumplestiltskin would be attending the wedding of Captain Hook! A lot really had changed since she came to Storybrooke, hadn't it? Emma smiled crookedly. Well, she was about to marry a pirate, so she supposed that was a huge understatement.

Henry was standing up at the front of the assembly, next to Killian. They were both dressed in formal wear, albeit of another realm. Henry had followed Killian's lead in the clothing department, as he did with so many things these days. Henry was getting so tall! He was really growing up. Emma's eyes watered for a moment. She blinked back the tears. Ruby would be pretty unhappy if she ruined her makeup. She focused on her soon-to-be husband. Killian was wearing a high-collared dark navy doublet with a white shirt, in a style befitting a pirate captain, and looking so damned handsome that Emma couldn't have taken her eyes off him if she tried.

His gorgeous blue eyes had gone wide and his lips parted in surprise when she set foot onto the Jolly Roger. She guessed the dress had done its job, and her lips curved in triumph. The strains of music from the quartet perched on the upper deck had quieted, then begun the bridal march as she and David made their slow way up the aisle. She gave Henry a small wink as she approached and he grinned at her in return. David kissed her cheek before putting her hand into Killian's and taking a seat beside his wife. Mary Margaret was holding Neal in her arms, dabbing occasionally at her eyes.

Killian squeezed her hand gently. He was smiling at her. She grinned back at him. Her heart was fluttering. She wasn't sure she would be able to remember her vows with this much emotion coursing through her. Must be the hormones, she thought. Fortunately she wasn't showing yet. Only a handful of people knew she was expecting and she wanted to keep it that way, for a little while at least.

Dr. Hopper cleared his throat as the music faded. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here to witness the union of Emma Swan and Killian Jones. As we know, they have already faced more trials together than many couples face in a lifetime. They have conquered them all. Today, we celebrate the triumph of love over evil."

"Hear, hear!" cried someone from the audience. The crowd cheered and applauded.

Hopper laughed before continuing, "Killian, your vows?"

Killian swallowed hard. She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"The first time we met, Emma, you saw right through me. Of course, you put a knife to my throat and threatened to kill me-"

the crowd laughed again as Killian continued, "-but then you've always had the keenest instincts of anyone I've ever known. I told you that you were something of an open book to me, but the reverse was true as well. You made me want to be a better man, a man with more in his heart than a thirst for revenge. I wanted to deserve you. I'm not sure that I will ever be worthy, but I pledge to devote the remainder of my days to the pursuit. I love you, Emma Swan."

Killian slid the ring onto her finger. The simple gold band glowed in the setting sun. Emma's heart was full of a happiness unlike any she'd ever known. She felt, for the first time, like she truly had a home.

She took a deep breath before beginning her own vows. She'd planned them carefully, but after hearing Killian's simple, sweet words, she spoke instead from the heart.

"You once said to me, 'When I win your heart, and I will win it, Emma, it won't be because of any trickery. It will be because you want me.'

You were right. You did win my heart. I know I didn't make it easy on you..."

Killian smiled at that, as the crowd laughed again. She glanced to where her parents sat chuckling in the front row.

"...but somehow you got through my defenses. With patience, courage, sacrifice...and good form. I laughed when you first said we make a good team. Now I know that no matter what the world throws at us, we'll be standing side by side, facing it together. I love you, Killian."

She took his ring from its hiding place in her décolletage and grinned at Killian's raised eyebrow. She slid the golden circlet onto Killian's ring finger. Traditionally it would go on the man's left hand, but in his case the right would have to do. The band was a perfect match to her own. The dwarves had done beautiful work.

"You may now kiss the bride," intoned Dr. Hopper.

Their lips touched gently, before Killian pulled her closer to him and deepened it. This time, Emma felt the power of True Love's Kiss surging through them. A rush of magic flashed from their joined bodies, flowing outward in a tangible wave of pure love and devotion. The crowd erupted in cheers and applause. Her eyes fluttered open to see him gazing at her with the same happiness that was filling her. They turned together, hands clasped, to meet their friends and family as husband and wife.

* * *

Killian was trying to focus on the conversation with his dancing partner, Mary Margaret. Thought tonight she looked more like her Majesty, Snow White. She was looking radiantly happy in a rose colored gown. He twirled her around the deck of the Jolly Roger, marveling at how odd life could be.

"You seem distracted, Killian," she chided as they continued the waltz.

"I was just contemplating the strange turns life can take, your Maj- forgive me - Snow."

"Tell me about it. I just attended my daughter's wedding with my newborn son in tow, and," she lowered her voice to whisper loudly, "I'm about to be a grandmother again!"

Killian looked about quickly. No one seemed to have heard. Emma didn't want to tell everyone until they were safely past three months.

"Aye. Not long ago, my only desire was to revenge myself upon the very man who is now dancing with my wife at my own wedding," he said, nodding to where Emma was waltzing somewhat awkwardly with Rumplestiltskin.

"You didn't believe you'd find love again," said Snow.

"No. In fact, I believed for centuries that there was naught remaining for me in life but pain and loneliness. Emma changed all that."

"She's a special girl," said Snow, with obvious pride. "I'm so happy she found someone worthy of her."

Killian nearly tripped and they came to a halt. "You mean that?"

"Absolutely. I know true love when I see it," she stood on tip-toe to kiss his cheek. "You're a good man, Killian. You two are perfect for each other."

She pulled away and left him staring after her, stupefied. He'd never really expected her parents to be happy about Emma's choice in him. He was still a pirate, after all...or was he? He was still lost in thought when he felt a hand slide around his waist.

"Take your wife for a spin around the dance floor, Captain?" Emma whispered huskily in his ear. He grinned.

"My pleasure, Mrs. Jones," he held a hand out to her with a gallant bow and a look that promised much more than a dance. She blushed and accepted his hand. They danced easily together, as they had during their adventure back in time. His hand on her waist, he guided her around the deck in effortless synchronicity. The guests parted and left the floor to them. Killian paid their audience no mind. Emma's skin was warm beneath the silk and lace of that delicious gown she was wearing. At the sight of her walking toward him up the aisle earlier, he could scarcely breathe, she was so beautiful. Her hair had glowed like golden silk in the setting sun, accented by the gold tiara in her hair. He'd blinked a few times in disbelief. He, Killian Jones, Captain Hook, was about to marry Emma Swan, daughter of royalty, Savior of the realm, the most incredible woman he'd ever met in his life. She loved him. She was carrying his child. It was like a beautiful dream.

As they spun about the deck, she leaned in and whispered to him. "How soon do you think we can get rid of everyone?"

"Not soon enough for my liking, I'm afraid," he whispered back.

"Hmph," groused Emma. "I can't wait to get this garter off, it's driving me crazy."

Killian stopped dead in his tracks, eyebrow raised. "Garter?"

Emma nodded with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Just a moment, love."

He strode over to where Mary Margaret was watching them dance along with her husband. He nodded to David, who was holding little Neal.

"Snow, might I ask a favor?"

"Let me guess, you two would like a little privacy?" she grinned.

"It's just that Emma's a bit tired, you understand," he covered, smoothly he hoped.

David raised an eyebrow but didn't protest. He held out a hand to shake, and Killian took it warmly. "Congratulations, Killian. Welcome to the family."

"That means a great deal, David. Thank you."

Killian rejoined his bride and watched as Mary Margaret glided around the deck, speaking quietly to the assembled guests. The party was beginning to dissolve. Knots of well-wishers made their way to him and Emma to say good night and good luck on their journey.

Between guests, Killian nuzzled her neck. "A fortnight with you all to myself, darling. It's enough to make a man start chucking wedding guests overboard and get this ship under sail."

"Patience," she chided. But he noted that she was bouncing lightly up and down as she bade good night to more guests. Patience has never been a strong suit of his Swan, he thought to himself with a chuckle. They certainly had that in common.

Henry was the last to leave, with David and Mary Margaret.

Emma pulled the boy close and held him tightly to her. This would be the hardest part of the long honeymoon for her, he knew. Being away from Henry again. The teenager was the first to pull away, looking a bit embarrassed.

"You'll only be gone a couple of weeks, Mom, jeez," he said.

"You'll be okay with Regina, right?"

"Yeah. She's getting better, I think."

Killian pulled Henry into a brief hug as well, with a clap on the back.

"Your mom has one of these 'mobile phone' contraptions, mate. We'll be in touch."

The three of them, with baby Neal, made their way down the gangplank. Killian and Emma waved at them until they'd gotten in their car and driven away, leaving them alone with the familiar creaking of the Jolly Roger and the water of the harbor lapping at her sides.

Killian tilted Emma's face up to his, smiling when her small frown disappeared as she gazed up at him. "I believe you said something about a certain undergarment that you could use a hand with, love?"

"Mmmmmhmm," she murmured as he slid his tongue along her lips. She parted hers to allow him to deepen the kiss and softly ran her own tongue along his. He groaned. These dress breeches were becoming uncomfortably snug suddenly. As if reading his thoughts, Emma ran her hand naughtily up his thigh and caressed him through the fabric.

"Emma, darling..."

"Make love to me, Killian..."

He crushed his mouth to hers, feeling her respond in kind. He bent to pick her up, gathering the long silk train of her dress in his hook.

He carried her to the cabin, kissing her all the while. He set her down gently, letting her stand in the center of the room while he lit the lanterns and candles that he'd placed all about the small space.

When he was done, he turned to see her gazing at him with love and heat so intense he could feel it down to his soul. She raised a hand to her head and slid the tiara from it, setting it on the table beside the bed. He watched her lift the pins from her golden tresses, releasing them in a soft cascade around her shoulders.

He stepped toward her but she turned away from him slowly, giving him a view of her lovely backside draped in the silky gown. He realized she wanted him to help her out of it. He gathered her hair and swept it over her shoulder gently with his hook as his hand found the tiny buttons clasping the fabric together. He released them one at a time, kissing her back a little further down as each one came open. When the last one released, the dress slid down to her waist. He sucked in a breath at the sight of the white lace corset she was wearing beneath. He turned her to face him. It was a delicate confection that held her gorgeous breasts in sumptuous display, barely covering her nipples. He brushed his thumb over one of them, gratified to feel it harden at his touch. Emma moaned. He slid his hand down to her waist where the silk dress was pooled and gently tugged it down until it swished to the floor, leaving her quivering before him in the most glorious lingerie he'd ever seen.

And then there was the garter. Good god, he didn't think he could get any harder than he already was, until he saw that wisp of silk and lace sitting snugly around her upper thigh.

His eyes roamed over her ravenously as he removed his coat and shirt, stripping off his boots and until he was down to just his snug breeches. Emma had slid a hand to her breasts and was pinching a nipple as she watched him disrobe. He wanted to take this slow and savor it, but she was making it damnably hard.

He knelt before her, asking her wordlessly to lift a foot. He slid off one shoe and then the other. Her skin was silky smooth to his touch. Her head tilted back as he ran his hook slowly up the inside of her thigh. He ignored the garter for the moment. He stood again and slid his hook ever so lightly in between her breast and the lacy cup that held it. Her intake of breath as he rubbed her erect nipple aroused him even further. He slid the hook to the other nipple and gave it the same treatment. She arched her back, begging for more.

He slid his hand around her and flicked the corset open, lowering his head to capture a freed nipple as he did so. Emma's hands wound into his hair. Her breasts were already swelling. She was so tender, so sensitive. He gently tugged the nipple with his teeth. She moaned again, whispering his name.

He kissed his way down her abdomen, kneeling before her again. She was clad now only in a wisp of white lace panties and the garter. She was the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen. He pressed his lips to her belly and cupped her ass cheeks. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders as she caressed his scalp. His child, his little girl was inside her. He nuzzled Emma gently, rubbing his cheek against her. He felt overcome.

Her hips tilted toward him, encouraging him to slide off her panties. Which he did. Slowly. Nibbling her skin on the way down. He lifted her leg with the garter up and placed her foot on the edge of the bed. He looked up at her as he leaned in to lick at her core. He closed his eyes in pleasure. She was dripping wet. He rolled his tongue through her folds, savoring the taste of her. She was like sweet seawater on his lips and he would never get enough of her. She rocked her hips forward. Her clit was swollen and so sensitive, he knew she wouldn't last long. He pulled back, ignoring her mewl of protest, and nibbled his way to the garter encircling her thigh. He slid his hook behind it and slowly, slowly, inched it down her leg until she lifted her delicately arched foot, allowing him to toss it aside. He pulled her foot to the floor and then tugged her gently down to a seated position on the bed. He kissed her soundly as he pressed her down to the mattress, before returning his attention to the apex of her thighs. She sighed contentedly as he ran his tongue slowly up the length of her slit, coming to a stop at her sensitive nub. He ran circles around it with his tongue, nibbling lightly, then pulling away, before latching onto it again with sucking pressure.

Emma was arching her back. Her legs had come up around his shoulders and spread wider to him. She was so wet he could feel her gushing against his chin. He knew she was close. He slid one, then two fingers deep inside her in a fluid motion, curling them upward once they were buried. He worked them in and out in a forceful motion as he gently teased her clit with his tongue.

"Oh, oh oh! Killian!" she said, breathily. He could feel her pussy rippling around him and increased his tempo. Her entire body seized up with the force of her climax. She was spurting against his hand as she came, arching off the bed. He continued to lick at her core as she relaxed. He crawled up to kiss her, pressing his hard cock against her wet core through his breeches. She looped a leg around his waist, pressing him to her. Her hands found the ties of his breeches and worked them open, tugging them down impatiently. When her hand wrapped around his thick erection, he fought the urge to cum immediately. Maritime knots, maritime knots.

She pressed forward, raising him to a kneeling position astride the bed. She sat up, encouraging him to stand with her hands on his buttocks. He obliged, both hoping and not hoping that she was about to take him in her mouth. He wouldn't last long, given the state he was in.

She tugged his breeches down to his ankles and he stepped out of them, kicking them aside. Her gaze was locked on his as she gently cupped his balls with one hand and clasped his shaft with the other. He closed his eyes. It was too much.

"Emma..." he whispered.

"I want to taste you, Killian."

The next sensation nearly undid him, as she took just the tip of his cock in her mouth. She swirled her tongue, licking up the drop of pearly pre-cum that had been rolling from it. She made a sound of delight as she took him deeper into her mouth. He could feel his balls tightening as his climax built. He rocked his hips back and forth. He couldn't help it. Emma slid her hand up and down his shaft. It was slick. He realized she must've used her own wetness to lubricate her hand and he started to cum. He looked down to see her lips wrapped around him. He shattered, losing control. He spurted and spurted into her mouth, which she was swallowing with evident pleasure. It seemed to go on forever. When he came back to himself, Emma was licking the last drop of him from the tip of his still hard cock.

Her breasts were incredibly firm, the nipples hard as diamonds. Impossibly, he felt aroused again immediately. Her hand was on her cleft, rubbing it in sensuous circles. He groaned and pressed her back into the mattress, turning her to lie properly on the bed.

He pressed his still hard length against her entrance, staring into her eyes as he did so. He saw the desire, the love, she felt for him and it spurred him forward. He buried himself inside her in one deep stroke. He loved the way she looked when they were making love like this, so peaceful and happy. She clutched him to her more tightly with her ankles against his ass. He increased the tempo and force of his thrusts, pushing himself up on his hands for leverage. She opened her thighs wider to him and reached down with one hand to rub herself as he pounded into her. The sound of his skin slapping against hers filled the small cabin. Her skin and his was covered in a fine sheen of sweat as the matched each other thrust for penetrating thrust. He could feel the orgasm building again but he held it off, wanting Emma to come on his cock.

"Yes, Emma, come for me lass, that's it..."

Her eyes closed tight as her climax took her. She bucked against him, shouting "Yes, yes yes!". Her internal walls were rippling tightly around him, milking his cock with strong muscular contractions. He could fight it no longer. He gave in to the onrushing orgasm, sliding in and out of her tight, slick pussy as he filled her with long, hot spurts of his seed.

He collapsed atop her, unable to move. They lay like that for some time, as their breathing slowed and their heartbeats synced against each other's chest. Her hand wound softly through his hair, lulling him to the edge of slumber.

He rolled over, sliding out of her regretfully. She curled into his side as he pulled the blanket over them. He sighed contentedly. This was bliss.

"I love you, Killian," she whispered sleepily.

He kissed the top of her head tenderly.

"I love you, Emma Jones," he whispered in return, feeling her smile against his chest.


	28. Tidings

_I just want to say thank you to all the followers of this tale and especially to the reviewers. You have no idea how encouraging it is to get a nice line or two after posting a chapter. I am having so much fun spending time with Emma and Killian and I am beyond delighted that you guys are enjoying it with me. Please keep the comments coming, because I'm not done with these two yet! I had planned to write a really sweet epilogue. The true "happy ending" if you will. But where's the fun in that? The best thing about this couple is how great they are together in an adventure, especially when the adventure is filled with danger, romance, and tons of hot Captain Swan moments. So forgive me for giving them only a brief respite from trouble, and I hope you'll join me for the continuation of the adventure! I will be posting it as a brand new story, so this is the last chapter of the "Black Pearl". _

"Dat chile she be summat es-pezial, trop es-pezial. She be tetched by the goddess. Mami Wata be wit-in you, girl."

Emma came to an abrupt halt. Killian stopped with her. "You aren't seriously listening to that nonsense, Emma."

"Mami Wata - that's one of Yemaja's names," she whispered. She turned back slowly to the darkened doorway they had just passed. They were strolling down the quaint waterfront quay of a colonial town. After a week sailing about the Caribbean on their honeymoon, Emma had wanted to stretch her legs on dry land for an evening and find a good dinner. Now that her morning sickness had passed, she was starving all the time. They'd put into port at this sleepy place, a town so small there was just one restaurant. The food had been delicious though.

Now they were enjoying a quiet walk, gazing at the field of stars overhead. The town was without electricity, so there was no light pollution to interfere with the spectacular view of the heavens. Killian had been pointing out constellations and telling her their names. He'd been a quick study of the stars of this realm. Which she supposed he'd need to be, since they were sailing the Caribbean the old-fashioned way: no GPS, just star charts and sextants. It was actually completely wonderful, she thought. He was an incredible man.

The rough, elderly voice had intruded on their quiet reverie. A woman stepped half out of the shadow. She was tiny and wizened, her wrinkled dark skin indicating great age. Her hair was completely white and pulled back in a neat bun. Her eyes, however, sent a shock through Emma. One was completely white, with no iris whatsoever. The other was a bright, almost translucent blue.

"What do you know about Mami Wata?" asked Emma, suspiciously. The woman was probably senile, or maybe even a very seasoned con artist.

"Mami Wata?" cackled the old lady. "She de source of life, chile. All de people here know dis," she rasped, gesturing to the island. "You, chile. You know Mami Wata. You know her betta dan nobody!"

The woman laughed again as she shuffled toward them, leaning heavily on her cane.

"Emma, let's go," said Killian, wrapping his arm around her protectively and turning them to leave, glaring at the old woman.

"Wait," she said to him, before turning back to her. "How do you know that?"

"Dis eye, chile," she said, pointing at the white orb that stood out so drastically in her dark face. Dis eye see tings clear. De goddess leave her mark, always."

"Mark? What do you mean, mark?"

"Dis girl, she be es-pezial," she said, reaching toward Emma's tummy. Emma backed away instinctively, Killian putting himself in front of her, but the old lady was quicker than she looked. She caught hold of Emma's hand and was gripping it with a gnarled, iron fist.

Emma thought she might have imagined it, but she thought she saw the woman's good eye change colors, rapidly cycling through shades of indigo and aquamarine.

Just when she thought Killian might force the woman off of her, she let go abruptly. Emma and Killian both stumbled, off balance.

The woman was shaking her head, a sad expression on her face. The hairs on the back of Emma's neck stood up.

"Let's get out of here, love." Killian was pulling her down the quay.

"Dere be much trouble on de horizon. Trop trop evil tings, chile..."

The woman was still shaking her head sadly at them as they made their way back to the small dock where the dinghy was tied up. The Jolly Roger was a welcome sight, awaiting their return to the cozy captain's cabin. Emma shivered in the warm night air, and thought she felt Killian do the same. Something about the woman's words had chilled them both to the soul.

_I wil post a new story shortly that will pick up where "Black Pearl" leaves off. The Jolly Roger has more adventures ahead of her! _


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